


Neon Showman

by atimi (bertee)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Crack, M/M, POV Outsider, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-13
Updated: 2009-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The love story of Jared and Jensen as observed by one Chad Michael Murray. While Jared experiences a journey of self-discovery in which he realizes he's gay, lands a role on Supernatural and falls for his new co-star, Chad names his penis, chairs the Eric Brady fanclub and develops an unhealthy fascination with fraternal incest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neon Showman

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spn-j2-bigbang in 2009. [Accompanying art](http://community.livejournal.com/lemonyellow/1145.html) by quoth-the@LJ

**August 29th 2004, Los Angeles**

Chad's toenails? Were _awesome_.

This wasn't a particularly surprising revelation since Chad's default mode was to assume every part of his body was awesome but it was nice to have some visual confirmation. Lying back across the orange couch in his host's basement - and seriously, who had an orange couch? - he tapped his feet idly against the wall and took a gulp of beer, focusing on the pleasing shape of his toenails rather than the ugly-ass sofa that was making him look like a sedentary convict.

"Ah, there you are."

Chad downed some more beer as the enormous shadow of Jared Padalecki fell over him. Like a small animal during a solar eclipse, some part of Chad's brain decided that the sudden darkness indicated nap time and he yawned sleepily, folding his hands behind his head and squinting up as his friend inquired, "What're you doing down here?"

He thought it was fairly obvious what he was doing down there - his toenails were in pride of place after all - but apparently it was a rhetorical question and Jared continued without learning the specifics of Chad's toenail appreciation interlude, "You missed Jaume's speech."

Letting out another yawn, he didn't try to conceal his boredom. As far as he was concerned, his _House of Wax_ duty had been done by screaming, fleeing, and looking unattractively sweaty on film, and so listening to the director's presumably self-indulgent speech at the wrap party when he could be drinking beer and admiring his feet was way beyond his personal call of duty. Nevertheless, he was an occasionally supportive guy and so feigned interest to the best of his ability. "Oh yeah? What did he say?"

Jared shrugged, sinking to an armchair and shrinking his shadow down to what Chad considered a more appropriate size. (He enjoyed having Jared as a friend but did not enjoy the height insecurity that accompanied the friendship. Jared was too often described as a giant puppy and Chad wished to avoid seeming like a small, yappy Pomeranian in comparison.)

"Didn't say much really. Just, y'know, thanks for all the hard work and hope we have a great night." Jared grinned, taking a swig of beer as he added smugly, "And that he was proud of us all for not boning Paris Hilton."

Chad scrubbed his hand across his eyes with a groan and winced at the sound of Jared's mocking cackle. "Fucker." Taking his feet down from the wall, he looked over at his friend. "Dude, I _almost_ made it without hitting that. It was her last day, and we were drunk, and-"

"You thought you'd send her off in style?"

Chad had never been great with understanding sarcasm. "Well, yeah..."

Sighing, Jared shook his head in disapproval. "Your junk's gonna fall right off one day, man. I don't even wanna know where that thing's been."

As far as Chad was concerned, his penis was practically Superman and was thus unfazed by such trivialities. (If he'd nicknamed it Superdick and fashioned a small cape for it when he was bored, that was no-one's business but his own.) "Hey, I'll be fine. I used a condom."

Jared looked genuinely impressed. "You used a condom? _You_? Mr 'You can't get pregnant if you have upside-down sex'?"

"Hell yeah, I used a condom," he retorted with more conviction than he felt. Doubts crept in, however, and recalling the very blurry memories of that evening, he admitted, "Or they might have been balloon animals. There was rubber involved somewhere."

Jared blinked. "You fucked Paris Hilton with a balloon animal?"

Deciding Jared's summary was probably the best interpretation of his recollections, Chad nodded, holding up his hand for a high-five. "What can I say? I'm the man."

Receiving a less than enthusiastic high-five from his friend, he watched as Jared's hand returned to a bag of chips resting on the chair and licked his lips unconsciously at the salty smell of the snack-food. He leaned his head back against the arm of the couch and opened and closed his mouth in what he considered to be the universal 'Feed Me' gesture.

Unfortunately, Jared was deficient in these common gestures and continued to shovel chips into his own mouth without any regard for Chad's mini-starvation. Wanting to be fed before Jared used all the chips in an attempt to fill up his bottomless pit of a stomach, he whined pitifully and made grabby hands, grinning in success when Jared rolled his eyes and dumped a load of chips onto his outstretched palms.

Speaking through a mouthful of food, he mumbled happily, "Fan' oo."

"Sorry, didn't catch that. Was that 'Thank you, Jared, for giving me food because I was too busy admiring my feet to go upstairs and get my own'?"

Chad corrected the only erroneous part of that statement. "I wasn't admiring my feet; I was looking at my toenails." He wiggled his feet in Jared's face so that he too could inspect the goods. He was a helpful guy like that. "See? They're kinda awesome."

Sadly, Jared didn't share in the toenail love and batted his foot away with a grimace. "You're gross. And incredibly self-absorbed."

Chad patted him on the head, wiping off some chip crumbs in the process. "Yep. That's me. I'm like a sponge."

Jared's brow wrinkled. "Huh?"

"What?"

"How are you like a sponge?"

Jared could be very slow sometimes. Chad helped him out. "Because I'm absorbed, dude. I soak stuff up." He mimicked a sponge and made sucking motions against Jared's leg, complete with demonstrative noises in case Jared still didn't get it.

"Okay..."

He got the feeling he was humoring him, but before he could challenge this reaction, Jared leaned forward with a serious expression on his face. Chad could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Jared Padalecki's Serious Face (which required capital letters to mark its importance) and given that those occasions had included his dog getting injured, his car getting stolen, and the pair of them nearly getting arrested in Tijuana, the Serious Face was not a good sign.

He pushed himself to a seat and schooled his features into a look of concern as Jared confessed, "I have something to tell you."

Chad's instinct kicked in before his logical thought. "Oh God, you're not pregnant, are you?"

Jared's eyebrows shot up. "What?! Do I look like a seahorse to you?" Before Chad could ask what a seahorse had to do with a guy being pregnant, Jared answered in simple English without any seahorse comparisons, "No, dude, I'm not pregnant. Nice default response though. Very classy."

Chad smiled brightly. "Thanks." Feeling more relaxed now that he had confirmation that he'd not managed to inadvertently impregnate his male best friend, he reminded, "So, what was this big announcement? I'm telling you, man, it better be good after scaring me like that."

Giving him a weak smile, the usual happy-puppy Jared looked more like a nervous puppy who'd peed in his owner's shoe and was terrified of admitting it. "It's kinda..." He took a deep breath and lifted his head to face Chad. "I think I'm gay."

For Chad, the moment of revelation was akin to when he found out the squiggle at the start of the Disney logo was actually a 'D'. The world tilted crazily for a second, with black becoming white, up becoming down, and golf becoming a taxing and manly sport, before his brain processed the new information and decided that, yes, it actually seemed kind of obvious once you thought about it. Order was then restored to the universe and the world settled back to normal with the minor adjustment that Jared Padalecki was now gay.

"-think. Murray? Chad? You hearing me?"

Belatedly, he realized that Jared had continued talking while the cosmos was busy being inverted and blinked himself back to reality. "What?"

"I was asking you what you thought," Jared repeated, still looking petrified that Chad would reject his friendship and run away screaming because he'd come out of the closet, which frankly was a ridiculous notion. Yes, he'd shun people for life if they drove a Volvo, but he wasn't about to let something as petty as sexual orientation get in the way of an awesome friendship. "Y'know, about me being gay?"

Stretching a little, he rested his elbows on his thighs as he turned to face Jared. "That kind of depends."

Jared's brow wrinkled and Chad was reminded that Padalecki really did have a very large forehead. "Depends on what?"

"Whether you want to have sex with me," he explained before narrowing his eyes in what he hoped was a piercing manner. "So do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Want to have sex."

"With you?"

"Yes."

Before Chad could start up a full mental drum roll, Jared snorted with laughter. "Hell, no."

Chad had never realized that being turned down for anal sex could be such a depressing experience. "Oh."

This rejection must have read on his face since Jared sobered up instantly, stammering out the excuse, "I mean, uh, you're a great looking guy, but you're, uh, not really my type. I bet loads of men _would_ want to have sex with you though..."

Chad perked up at this. "Really?"

"Uh, yeah." Jared nodded vehemently. "Loads, dude."

"Awesome." Satisfied that his status as the most attractive man on the planet was still intact, he verified quickly, "But _you_ don't want to have sex with me?"

"Nope. If that's okay with you," Jared added with a strange kind of politeness. (Personally, Chad had never been one for unnecessary politeness. "Hop on board" always seemed so much easier than "Would you be awfully kind enough to let me penetrate you now?")

He exhaled in relief, grinning at his now-gay best friend. "Thank God. I was worried I'd need to start wearing some sort of ass shield when you were around. I mean, that would just be awkward. Can you imagine trying to flirt with chicks with a big, dick-proof shield on your butt?" Realizing that what he'd just said could be classified as insensitive, he apologized, "Oh, sorry, dude. Guess you can't imagine trying to flirt with chicks now that you're into guys. Bummer."

Jared gaped at him and Chad took the opportunity to steal some more chips before asking, "Hey, what about your girlfriend?" An unpleasant thought occurred. "She's not a dude, is she?"

Jared raised his eyebrows. "Does she look like a dude?"

"Not really, no. But you don't look like someone who has a fear of midgets either. Appearances are deceptive fuckers."

"I don't have a fear of-" Evidently deciding that there was no point arguing against his midget-phobia, Jared stated firmly, "Sandy is not a guy. She's a woman and she's awesome, but we're just friends and have been this entire time. She's actually dating a carpenter from Malibu."

Offering up a verdict of "Cool", Chad made a mental note that Sandy McHottie was back on the market. There was no way a carpenter could compete with a rich TV star with a rotating bed and silk sheets. Unless...

"Is the carpenter Jesus?"

"No."

"Excellent." He struck the carpenter off his list of rivals (because even Chad would think twice about trying to be a better fuck than Jesus. There had to be a reason why so many women called out the dude's name in bed.) With that settled, he turned back to more important matters. "So, how gay are you?"

"What?"

"How gay are you?" he repeated slowly. He didn't think homosexuality had anything to do with being mentally challenged but made a note to Google it when he got home in case he needed to make flashcards for future conversations. "Like, what level of gayness are you at?"

"Like on the Kinsey scale?"

"Huh?" Jared opened his mouth to explain but Chad ignored him. "Never mind, I don't care. I'm talking the Chad scale here. It's like a homosexual parking structure - which level do you park your flowery VW Beetle on?"

"There are levels?" Jared asked, baffled.

"Of course there are levels," he stressed with a melodramatic sigh, thinking it was somehow wrong that he was the one teaching Jared about the gay lifestyle. "First off, are you completely, one hundred percent certain that you're gay?"

"Um, I think so-"

"Think? _Think_?!" Leaning forward, Chad laid a platonic, non-gay hand on Jared's thigh. "Jayman, you gotta do more than think. You gotta commit, dude."

Jared chuckled nervously. "What, you a gay motivational speaker now?"

Chad contemplated briefly, then merged the job title into 'moti-gay-tional speaker' and added it to his list of alternate career prospects which thus far included porn star, condom tester, and topiary expert. (He really liked bushes.) "Not yet but I can totally help you out with this. Trust me, I know how easy it is to get confused about whether you like cock or not."

According to the befuzzled look on Jared's face, he'd evidently thought the decision was a simple one, but that was why Chad was here; someone needed to explain the complexities of the gay universe to Jared. "Okay, do you like kissing dudes?"

"I guess."

He waved it away. "Doesn't mean you're gay. Kissing a dude is just like kissing a hairy chick."

An amused smirk played on Jared's lips. "So I'm not gay if I kiss guys?"

"Nope." Opting for a practical demonstration, he leaned in and mashed their lips together, smothering Jared's squawk of protest with some skilful laps and licks. (He wasn't about to let his buddy lose out on the full Mayhem Tongue Experience just because he was a guy.) When he felt he'd demonstrated his skill enough, he pulled back with the annoucement, "In conclusion: straight."

Jared looked like he was about to pass out.  
  
This was a fairly standard response to the awesomeness of Chad's technique so he let it slide. "Next question: do you like being jerked off by and/or jerking off other guys?"

Still pale, Jared nodded. "Yes."

His hands flew protectively to his crotch as soon as the word left his mouth but Chad reassured, "Don't worry, dude. I'm not about to start spanking your monkey in the middle of Jose's house."

"Jaume's house."

"Didn't I say that? Anyway, jerking off doesn't mean anything when it comes to being gay. I mean, everybody chokes the chicken at some point so there's really not that much difference between choking your own chicken and choking someone else's. It's like there's a little herd of unruly chickens and they all need to be kept in line somehow. You're just helping the farmer out by choking other chickens occasionally."

"Uh-huh." Jared frowned. "Wait, who's the farmer?"

"God."

There was a brief pause while Jared dealt with the logistics of God's chicken farm and Chad basked in the glory of his own analogy. Finally deciding Jared was spending too long on what was a fairly basic principle, he moved on to the next topic. "What about sucking off? You like being sucked off by guys?"

This time Jared sounded a little more exasperated when he replied curtly, "Yes."

"So do I!" he announced proudly. "Doesn't make you gay if you don't mind guys sucking you off instead of girls. Me? I'm an equal opportunity blowjob-recipient. As long as someone's sucking my dick, I'm happy."

"You're a prince."

"Right? I even pretend to take down their numbers as well."

Rolling his eyes, Jared moved the topic away from Chad's conquests, which he guessed was out of jealousy. After all, not everyone shared his raw animal magnetism. "So, according to you, I'm not gay if I like getting handjobs and blowjobs from men. What happens if I like giving handjobs and blowjobs to men?"

"Well, that-"

A mischievous smirk spread across Jared's lips. "Or having hot, sweaty sex with men?"

"I don't-"

"Or groping them?" His voice became slow and suggestive. "Licking, and kissing, and sucking..."

"That's-"

"Stroking, and cupping, and thrusting..."

The last one was accompanied by a decidedly graphic mime and Chad threw his hands up with a disgusted groan. "Ew, enough, dude. You're gay, you're gay!"

Letting out a surprisingly evil cackle, Jared plopped back into his chair. "Are you okay with that?"

Happy that the demonstration of gay sex was finished, he confirmed, "Absolutely. You go out there and fuck whoever you want, Padalecki. Live the American dream. Or the Polish dream. Whatever."

Jared laughed, visibly relaxing now that he had Chad's approval. "The Polish dream?"

"Yep." He took a long swig of his neglected beer. "I'm down with you dreaming about sausages and poles and shit as long as you don't start sharing every detail with me. And no trying to convert me either. I like the ladies, dude, and I don't want my best friend going all Gay-hovah's Witness on my ass." He contemplated that statement. "No doing anything else on my ass either, you hear me?"

Free hand raised, Jared sipped his own drink as he promised, "Got it. You won't even notice the difference - I'm not about to turn into Liberace or anything."

The crazy world-tilt was back. "Liberace was gay?!"

**+++**

**May 18th 2005, Los Angeles**

"Congratu-motherfuckin'-lations, J-Pad!"

Happily returning the double high-five, Jared dropped to a seat at the table. "Thanks, man." He gave the empty beer glasses a cursory glance and teased, "You start this party without me?"

Chad burped guiltily and Jared grinned. "Shoulda known. You only call me J-Pad when you've been drinking."

"It's better than J-Leck," Chad pointed out very reasonably. "Besides, if you didn't want me drinking, you should've been here on time. I've been waiting for you for an hour, Padalecki. A whole hour."

His attempts at looking mournful were foiled when Jared, who evidently possessed the 'very reasonable' gene too, added, "On your own. In a club full of strippers."

Chad's face split into a boyish grin, unable to lie about the awesomeness of the situation. He loved strippers, and being in a strip club for an hour without any other obligations was his idea of Christmas coming early.

As if on cue, a stripper wearing a Santa hat and red and white lingerie wandered past, and Chad sighed happily. He really, really loved strippers.

Admiring the curve of the stripper's ass under her out-of-season panties, he jumped when Jared clicked his fingers in his face with the call, "Hey! Buddy! Back over here, dude." Emerging from his stripper-daze, Chad blinked at his friend. "We're meant to be celebrating, remember?"

"I am celebrating," he pointed out, wondering if his words were actually that slurred or whether he was just imagining it. Deciding that he was a manly man and so couldn't possibly be slurring his words after just four beers (and an unspecified number of body shots), he argued eloquently, "I had three celebratory lapdances on your behalf. There were hot strippers all up in my face and I swear, I was thinking about you, like, forty-three percent of the time."

Jared stared at him.

Chad was used to Jared's stares and now took them as compliments. Smiling, he downed more beer and shifted the subject away from strippers since Jared, the fool, evidently didn't share his affection for them. "Anyway, congrats! You said your pilot got picked up?"

Relaxing into a grin, Jared picked up Chad's discarded glass of whiskey before answering proudly, "Yep. The WB ordered a whole bunch of episodes for next fall and we start shooting in July. I've got a job, dude!"

Cheering, Chad clinked his bottle against his friend's glass and knocked back some more beer. He swallowed it down and then realized that he had no idea what Jared's shiny new job entailed. Bypassing the option of subtle inquiries, he came right out and asked, "What's your show about? You the dorky, preppy boyfriend still or have you grown some balls yet?"

Laughing, Jared folded one leg up to rest his knee against the table. "Kinda. I mean, yeah, I start off sort of dorky but I kill evil things too so, y'know, that's cool."

Chad looked suspiciously at his beer. (Because obviously Jared 'omg, candy!!!' Padalecki did not just say some dumbass was paying him to _kill evil things_ on national television.) His beer didn't seem particularly shady so he looked back up at Jared. "Come again?"

Smirking, Jared asked with an annoyingly know-it-all tone, "You haven't listened to a single thing I've said about _Supernatural_ , have you? I've only been talking about it for the past three months, Chad."

"Hey, I listened! It's being filmed up in Vancouver, you're playing the younger brother..." There was the familiar sensation of mental tumbleweed. "And that's all I got." Pre-empting Jared's sigh, he continued, "Explain it to me again. You got my undivided, I promise."

Despite looking like he was wavering, Jared relented. "Okay, so there are these two brothers, Sam and Dean-"

"Which one are you?"

"Sam. He's the younger one, who's studying law at Stanford and who left the family business behind."

"What's the family business?"

"Killing things. Anyway, their father goes missing so the older brother, Dean, comes to get Sam and the two of them go driving round the country together to look for their father and to kill, like, ghosts and demons and stuff. It's pretty sweet."

Chad was still processing these details. "Wait. The whole show is just two guys in a car? I don't know, man - that sounds kinda gay."

"Gay?"

"Yeah, y'know..." Chad's fingers acted out a short but heartfelt story of attraction, love, and buttsex. "Gay."

Jared looked vaguely nauseated. "Which part of 'brothers' do you not understand?"

"Which part of 'incest' do you not understand?" he returned cheerfully. "Who are you going to be having gay sex with?"

Eyes widening, Jared stammered, "How did you-" He coughed. "What do you mean?"

"Who's playing your brother?" Chad specified, confused by Jared's confusion.

"Oh." Jared suddenly became very interested in his drink as he said in a neutral voice, "Uh, Jensen Ackles."

Racking his brain for any encounters with a guy called Jensen, he came up blank and prompted, "What's he been in?"

"He was in _Smallville_ this year," Jared offered. "Played Lana's boyfriend. Went crazy. Y'know, the normal _Smallville_ fare."

"Yeah..." He'd been at the WB long enough to know that Lana a) was played by Kristin Kreuk and b) was slammin', but her on-screen boyfriends remained a mystery to him. "I don't watch that shit. What else was he in?"

"He was on _Dawson's Creek_ for a while?"

"Oh! The guy with the massive forehead?"

"That's James Van Der Beek."

"Oh." He shrugged. "Eh, they both sound kinda German." He perked up. "Is your gay brother German? Do the two of you ride around in your incestuous European dick-mobile and kill things?"

Jared was not as excited by this idea as he was. "No, dude. And Jensen's Texan, not German."

Sulking, Chad capitulated, "Fine... Still don't know who this guy is though."

Pushing his hair back out of his eyes, Jared suggested, "You know the show where Jessica Alba was a genetically engineered cat assassin? Well, Jensen was one too."

"A genetically engineered cat assassin?"

"Yeah."

"Dude, you watch some fucked up shows."

Jared sagged. "You still don't know who he is?"

"No. Because I don't watch shows about cats that kill. Because I'm sane."

Slugging back his whiskey, Jared rubbed his temples. "I hate you."

"Liar." Confident that the giant loved him really, he encouraged, "C'mon, I must've seen him in something."

"You think I memorized his entire career history?"

Chad eyed him carefully. "Honestly? Yeah. You know way too much about someone you only pretend to fuck on TV."

"We don't-" He took a deep breath, relaxed his clenched jaw and disclosed what was clearly his last bit of information, "He played Eric Brady in _Days of Our Lives_."

If it hadn't been physically impossible, Chad would've sworn his brain just spontaneously combusted. "Oh my God, you're kidding me? Eric Brady?! You're in a show with Eric fucking Brady?"

Even though he'd watched him scream like a girl when confronted with hot wax, he wasn't sure whether he'd ever seen Jared more terrified as he answered tentatively, "Yes?"

"Dude!" Chad clapped him enthusiastically on the shoulder, drawing the attention of a few strippers. "That's so fucking awesome!" Jared gaped at him, but he continued unabashed, "What's he like? Is he prissy? Is he a douche?" He 'hmm'ed knowingly. "Is he a prissy douche?"

Smiling, Jared shook his head. "Nope, not prissy and not a douche. You'd like him; he's a great guy."

Instantly suspicious, Chad sipped his beer while eyeing Jared in a Godfather-esque fashion. "You ain't gonna leave me for Eric Brady, are you, Padalecki?"

Jared murmured something that sounded very much like, "As if I could ever get rid of you," but said with more volume, "I'm not gonna abandon you, dude. But unless you wanna come live in Vancouver for the next nine months, I'll need a Chad substitute in the Great White North."

He saw his point. Everyone needed some Chad in their lives. "But he's not replacing me permanently, right? Eric Brady's Chad-lite instead of the maximum strength Chad?"

Sighing, his friend corrected, "His name's Jensen but no, he's not replacing you. He's a new co-star that I happen to get along with, not my new hetero life partner. Your position is totally safe."

There was something hiding under his calm tone and Chad forced his alcohol-fuzzed mind to work out what it was. This deduction process was helped by pretending that he had laser eyes and squinting at Jared until the truth came shining through in a blinding, rainbow-colored epiphany. "You like him!"

"What? Of course I like him. I just told you, we get on real well."

"No, dude. You _like_ him." Jared dropped his eyes to the table and Chad crowed triumphantly, "Ha! I knew it! You wanna bang him, don't you? Jared Padalecki wants to fuck his brother!"

A couple of strippers sent scandalized looks in their direction (which was quite a feat since Chad knew from experience that it took a lot to scandalize the strippers in this particular establishment.) Face red, Jared answered at a far higher volume than Chad deemed necessary, "I don't want to fuck my brother!"

"Liar," Chad stated confidently. "You so wanna tap that ass." As well as being a veritable god when it came to women, Chad was very au fait on the subject of gay mating signals. Enthused by the prospect, he gave Jared a pat of encouragement and said seriously, "Listen to me, Jayman. You need to man up, and you need to fuck Eric Brady."

"I don't-"

"I've been your friend for nearly five years now, dude," Chad interrupted, not willing to let Jared impede his heartfelt pep-talk. "And in that time, I haven't asked you for anything."

"What? You asked to borrow my car two days ago-"

"As I was saying," he continued, clinging onto the remainder of his pep, "I haven't asked you for much. But I'm asking now." Serious face. Deep, serious breath. All-around aura of seriousness. "You need to fuck Eric Brady." Jared opened his mouth to protest and Chad put a (very serious) finger over his lips. "It's not that difficult. Your cock plus Eric Brady's ass is a match made in gay heaven." He grinned. "C'mon, take one for the team."

"There's a Let's Fuck Eric Brady team?"

Chad slapped the table as his internal lightbulb went on. "There is now!" He puffed up his chest. "I call president."

"Then _you_ can sleep with him," Jared retorted, seemingly bitter about having the presidency snatched from his grasp.

"Nope." He waved his hand regally. "I'm delegating. More specifically, I'm delegating you to go have hot gay sex with Eric motherfucking Brady. Get on that, J-Pad."

"You're an ass, you know that? You make all other asses look like Mother Teresa in comparison."

"Thanks, dude," Chad replied without sarcasm.

Jared glanced heavenward in despair. "Why are you flattered by me calling you an ass?"

"Isn't that, like, a compliment coming from a gay guy?"

Jared sighed. "How do you actually function in society? It's an honest question, dude; were you somewhere else when they were giving out tact?"

Chad gave the question some deep thought but opted for his standard answer. "I was probably getting laid."

After eyeing him like he was some new and interesting species, Jared gave up and left the discoveries to Darwin (or whoever had his job now), and reiterated with conviction, "I'm not fucking Eric Brady. No-one is fucking Eric Brady."

"That's kinda harsh, man. I'm sure Eric Brady isn't _that_ bad in bed. Someone must wanna fuck him."

"No. No-one wants to fuck Eric Brady. You know why?" Chad didn't but inwardly guessed at some unpleasant sexual transmitted disease. Chlamydia was a real mood killer. Sadly, he was wrong and Jared answered slowly, "Because he's a _fictional character_."

That was not an acceptable response. "Fine, if you're gonna get all technical on me, go fuck Jenny Whatever. Bet he'd be happy if you threw him a boner."

Jared wore the same expression as when he'd tried to explain to Chad that lemmings didn't actually throw themselves off cliffs. (This had been a concept he'd found difficulty to grasp, especially when there was documentary evidence of the phenomenon. If it was on film, it had to be true.) Learning from his mistake, Jared didn't press the point any further and changed the subject. "Y'know, the point of me coming here was to celebrate me being gainfully employed for the next year, not to have you cheerlead for my sex life."

By another coincidence, a stripper dressed as a cheerleader wandered past. After debating briefly whether the strippers could read his thoughts (and then deciding that they probably wouldn't be so happy to shimmy in his direction if they knew what he was thinking), Chad settled on taking the appearance as a sign from stripper-karma that he needed to move on.

"You're right, Paddy." He nodded sincerely. "We should definitely be celebrating. Discussions of gay sex with Eric Brady can wait." Before Jared could protest, he downed some more beer and waved his hand in the air with the shout, "Can I get some lapdances over here, ladies?"

**+++**

**September 13th 2005, After the premiere of the _Supernatural_ pilot**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

So you're a whiny emo bitch. Just thought I'd give you a heads up.  
  


**September 20th 2005, After 'Wendigo'**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

Dean is way cooler than you are. If I was a chick, I'd hit that.

**+++**

**December 15th 2005, Vancouver**

It was times like this that Chad loved North Carolina. Sure, it was a long way from LA, and his friends, family, and preferred choice of hookers, but on the upside, Wilmington was never so cold that his balls tried to crawl back up towards his intestines in search of warmth. He couldn't say the same about Vancouver and especially not at eleven o’clock at goddamn night.

Wrapped up in a coat that could probably have housed a small family of refugees, Chad picked his way through the quiet set of _Supernatural_ , giving out friendly nods, winks and 'How you doin'?"s to any crew members who looked confused by his presence. Because he was a man who could multi-task, he simultaneously categorized each person he passed in terms of the amount of alcohol he'd need to drink before he'd want to sleep with them. (The cute PA was about half a beer while the large sweaty male grip was a staggering amount of tequila.)

Taking advantage of the wide berth given to him as a result of this categorization, he headed over to the scene currently being shot, hoping to catch his buddy chasing imaginary ghosts or slaying something creepy or having sex with his brother.  
  
(The WB had gone up, like, thirty points in Chad's estimation for commissioning a show about gay ghost-hunting brothers.)

His hopes rose when he snuck into the house they were shooting in and saw that the sparse film crew had gathered in a room set up as a bedroom, where the lights were dim, the cameras were rolling and two figures were kissing and grinding like enthusiastic ferrets in the middle of the bed.

However, his hopes dropped when, still unable to make out the people in the bed, he caught sight of Jared watching from behind the cameras, thus ruling out any possibility of televised Winchester love.

His hopes then morphed into triumph when he got closer and saw that the bed's occupants were Eric Brady and a chick.

A really hot chick.

A really hot, really naked chick.

A chick so hot and so naked that Chad was pretty sure she'd have to be the one who was drunk before they had any kind of sex.

"Holy fuck, dude!"

There was a sudden deathly silence on set followed by the uncertain call of the director, "Um, cut, I guess?" His command was obeyed and, spurred on by this success, he yelled with more confidence, "What the fuck was that?"

Chad opened his mouth to explain but found himself wrapped in eight feet of Padalecki, who apologized profusely, "Sorry, guys! He's just- It's- He's got Tourettes."

"The fuck, asshole?!"

"See?" Jared forced a smile. "He can't control it. It's sad, really. I mean, we do what we can for him but it's difficult."

"Fuck you, Pad-"

The latter half of Jared's name came out as 'Padammmkmh' after being distorted by the hand his friend had slapped over his mouth as he apologized some more, "I'm really sorry. I'll just take him away." He started for the exit, pulling Chad backward with the whispered growl, "C'mon, douchebag."

"Y'rr mm 'ouche'ag."

"Yeah, yeah." Nourished by fucktons of candy, Jared hauled him away easily from the crew and the hot naked chick. Filming resumed behind them but before Chad could turn to greet Jared properly, he was pushed against a wall in another darkened room and smacked around the side of the head, thereby causing all greetings to be replaced with outrage.

"Ow. Fucker." He moved to slap him in return but got hair instead of head. "You calling me retarded?"

Backing off, Jared sighed. "Sometimes I wonder. What the hell are you doing here, Chad?"

"I came to visit you, bro." Grinning, he glanced back over at the set. "Helluva welcome present, man. Props for that. _Huge_ props." In case Jared missed his meaning (because he could be overly subtle sometimes), Chad grabbed his crotch through his gigantic coat.

Jared frowned at him. "You have 'huge props' in the comforter you've fashioned into a coat?"

"No, I-" He saw Jared's grin and punched him on the arm. "You suck."

"Only if you ask nicely."

"Really?"

"No." Chad's face fell. "Giving you head's gotta be like sucking a radioactive Tootsie Pop. I'm not going anywhere near that, dude."

Chad processed this fact and mentally added two shots of vodka to the alcohol Jared would need to consume before he'd sleep with him. (Hypothetically, of course. He wasn't about to bend over for Jared Padalecki - that was Eric Brady's job.) With his stream of consciousness flowing from Eric Brady to the girl in bed with Eric Brady, he asked cheerfully, "Who was the hot chick in there?"

"The hot chick whose privacy you just invaded?"

"Yep. That hot chick. C'mon, share the goods..."

Jared rolled his eyes. "She's not 'goods', Chad. Her name's Megalyn; she's up guest starring this week as some old girlfriend of Dean's."

"Ah. So _that's_ why she's naked." It was all starting to make sense now.

Apparently not to Jared. "Why did you think she was naked? You think her and Jen were going for a professional touch with their sex tape?"

Chad's brain came to a screeching halt at Happytown with that mental picture. "Whoa." He held his hands up, taking it slow with this matter of great importance. " _Jen_? There's another girl in there? Dude, your show fucking _rocks_."

More eye-rolling. Why anyone would roll their eyes at hot lesbian sex was beyond Chad but his excitement died when Jared cut in with a smirk, "Hate to rain on your lesbian porn parade but she's in there with Jensen. You know Jensen? The guy whose name can be shortened to Jen?"

Now lacking lesbians, Chad kicked moodily at the wall. "It's a stupid name."

"You keep thinking that, Chad Michael."

A thought struck Chad. It was a new and different experience. "Hey, what were you doing in there? You in this scene?" He perked up. "Is there a Winchester threesome? 'Cause that's like one person away from actual full-on incest."

"Why are you _so_ excited by incest? Seriously, it's not a healthy fixation..." Brushing it off, he answered the question at hand, "But no. Do I really look like I'm dressed to be Sam right now?"

Chad looked down at Jared's blue _My Little Pony_ shirt and wondered how he ever thought he was straight.

"So how come you were in there?" he pressed. "You get to watch other people's sex scenes? No-one lets _me_ do that..."

"That's because you're a creep," Jared returned easily and Chad conceded the point. "Nah, I was just passing through when they happened to be filming, that's all. I mean, it's not like I'm really interested in Megalyn, y'know?"

Chad despaired inwardly, feeling like he'd failed as a friend when hot naked chicks were not appreciated as they should be. Thinking about the other contents of the room, he felt an idea click into place and inquired knowingly, "Or maybe you were there to watch someone else..."

Jared answered too quickly. "What? That's ridiculous. Who would I be-"

"Ha! You were! Never would've had you down as a Peeping Mike, Jay."

"Peeping Tom."

"Eh. I knew it was one of those Smallville guys. But that's not the point." He grinned. "The point is that you were perving on Eric Brady."

"For the last time, his name isn't Eric Brady. It's Jensen Ackles. How hard is it to remember four syllables?"

"God, you're a bitch today. Is that character bleed or are you just on the rag, Jared-Sue?" Jared glared at him and he decided to stop being quite so mean to the guy whose couch he was hoping to crash on that night. "Fine, so you were perving on Jensen Ackles. Whatever you call him, I don't see you denying it."

"I wasn't perving. I was just..." He gestured vaguely. "...observing."

"Uh-huh. What kind of observing are we talking here? Observing like 'keeping an eye on your co-star when he's in bed with a hot chick' or observing like 'wishing you were the hot chick he was in bed with'?" Jared's guilty look told him everything and he put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "You haven't slept with him yet, huh?"

Jared shook his head and Chad bit his lip. "You even made a move yet?"

Another shake of the head and a downcast gaze. "I don't even know if he's into-"

"Jared?"

Chad jumped at the noise - he so did not need random people leaping out at him in dark Vancouver houses - but held back his indignation at the sight of the grin which spread across Jared's face as he greeted the newcomer, "Hey. Sorry about that, man-"

Looking towards the door, Chad realized that the newcomer was Jensen himself, now thankfully wrapped in a fluffy white robe but smiling at Jared like he was the Second Coming. "Don't worry about it. We were almost done anyway." He burrowed deeper into his robe before asking, "Who was that yelling?"

Jared's shoulders sagged. "That would be Chad."

Taking that as his cue, Chad stepped forward out of the shadows by the wall and felt an irrational sense of satisfaction when he saw Jensen jump this time. "How's it going?" He held out his hand to shake, silently judging Jensen's every move. "Chad Michael Murray."

Jensen shook his hand with a little less force than he would have liked, but he attributed this to shyness, deciding it must be intimidating to meet the most important person in his co-star's life after simulating sex and while wearing a bath-robe.  
  
"Jensen Ackles," he offered quietly. "You're WB too, right? I've seen you around at network things."

"You have?" This was news to him and he said as much, "I don't remember you."

Jensen looked even more awkward. "I, uh, I've only been there a couple of years. There was Dawson's and Smallville, but I was never-"

"What Chad was trying to say," Jared elaborated helpfully, "is that he was too busy chasing tail to remember where he was, let alone who he met." Jensen seemed to relax at that and his co-star continued, "I know he seems like an ass but my taste in friends isn't that awful, I swear. He does have his upsides."

Chuckling, Jensen acquiesced, "I believe you. Listen, we're done for the night. Let me go throw some clothes on and we can get a ride back. That okay?"

"Yep." He glanced over at Chad and employed his psychic powers of prediction. "You're wanting to stay with me, right?" Not even waiting for an answer, he turned back to Jensen. "You good with him riding with us?"

"Whoa, hold up." Not wanting to be the unsuspecting victim who got roped into some gay Texan ménage a trois, he asked, "When you say 'riding with you'...?"

"In the SUV," Jared clarified tiredly. "To my house."

"Ohhh. Gotcha."

"That's fine," Jensen said, eyes fixed on Jared rather than Chad. "Just give me a minute to change, yeah?"

"Sure," Jared confirmed, shooting a bashful smile in Jensen's direction. "I'll take this idiot away."

"Hey!" Chad glared at him, calling over his shoulder to Jensen as he was hustled out of the house, "Nice job in there, man. I mean, your technique could do with some work but you got a great body. I can totally see why he-"

Jared apparently moonlighted as a professional kidnapper since his hand once again made itself comfortable over Chad's mouth. Succumbing to his hold, he let Jared manhandle him out of the house and across the set to where an SUV was waiting for its two usual passengers. When he'd finally finished groping him, Jared moved to face him, exasperation plain on his face. "I know tact isn't your strong point, but you think you can not insult my co-workers? I have to spend fourteen hours a day with him and I don't wanna be apologizing on your behalf the entire time."

"Hey, it was just a friendly pointer," Chad pointed out with a shrug. "It's not like I said he was bad at _real_ sex. I was just trying to be nice to your boyfriend."

"You think you were being nice back there? Honestly?" Leaning against the vehicle, Jared ran a hand through his hair. "He was fucking nervous, dude. You just barged in on him filming a sex scene, then he gets introduced you for the first time while he's half-naked and when he's heard so much about you, and you start critiquing his damn technique?!"

When he put it like that, Chad sympathized with Jensen a little. Huddled in his coat, he stared down at his toes as he mumbled, "Sorry, man. I just-" Swallowing down his excuse, he repeated sincerely, "I'm sorry." As always, contrition was short-lived and he grinned at the implication of Jared's defense of his friend. "So, you really like this guy then?"

"Yeah." He looked down, eyes unreadable in the darkness. "I told you, he's a good guy."

"Hmm. Is that a good guy in a 'hang out and have beers' kind of way or in a 'future possible soulmate' kind of way?"

"Well, it's not in a 'help bribe the hooker not to go to the authorities' kind of way," Jared replied with a smirk. "You've got that one in the bag."

Flattery would only get him so far and Chad snorted. "As useful as I am in hooker-adjacent scenarios, you are not dodging the question that easily. C'mon, help me out here - are we talking Batman and Robin or Brokeback Mountain with you two?"

"I love that you picked the world's gayest superheroes as your example of straight guys."

Chad's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What're you talking about?" As far as he was concerned, Batman and Robin were the rubber-clad poster boys for heterosexuality.

"You're kidding me, right?" Jared stood upright again, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did you not see the rubber nipples in the last Clooney version? _Rubber nipples_ , dude. That and full body gimp suits put them one step away from having their own float in the gay pride parade." He leaned in, adding teasingly, "Holy buttfuck, Batman!"

"Ew." Batting away Jared's looming head, he pointed a finger at his face. "You're fucking sick, you know that? You don't go round saying shit like that about national icons!" He rubbed his temples, rapidly revising his opinion of his friend. "First Liberace, now Batman... I don't care if you do like schtupping it to a dude, you don't get to look at everyone else through rainbow-tinted lenses. Batman's rubber nipples are one hundred percent straight."

From the side there came the sound of someone clearing his throat before Jensen stepped closer and inquired, "Batman's rubber nipples?"

Even in the dark, Chad saw Jared's face light up in a grin. "Me and Chad were talking about Batman and Robin."

"Oh." Jensen nodded in understanding. "And how they're the gayest superheroes ever to gay?"

Hearing Jared whoop in delight at the support, Chad groaned. "You're twins. Mind-melded, childhood-icon-corrupting twins."

Jared laughed again but Jensen just smiled tiredly. "Yep. And this twin needs to get home and sleep. You good to go?"

"Yep. We'll drop you off first," Jared responded, holding the car door open for Jensen who clambered gratefully inside, and then turned to Chad with a grin. "Get in, Murray, unless you wanna walk home."

Not wanting his balls to turn any bluer than they already were (because Papa Smurf was not a good look for his genitals), he complied but paused before he got in, reminding quietly, "You never answered my question. Are you two like Batman or Brokeback?"

Jared's eyes glittered for a moment before a smile crossed his lips. "Personally? I’m hoping we’ll be Bert and Ernie."

**+++**

**February 14th 2006, After 'The Benders'**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

Totally thought you and Jenny were gonna get ass-raped by yokels. Was that in the first draft?

**+++**

**February 28th 2006, After 'Shadow'**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

Fuck yeah! Thanks for the namecheck, man! Always wanted to fuck a fictional character... Gotta say though, if I did hit on a chick like that at a bar, she so wouldn't forget my first name. No-one forgets The Chad.

**+++**

**March 2nd 2006, Wilmington, North Carolina**

_"This is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down..."_

Jumping at the noise, Chad groaned in annoyance as the Fresh Prince theme tune drowned out the overly exaggerated moans coming from the porn on his TV. Hitting pause before the sweaty, mustachioed plumber could pull the skirt off the slutty housewife, he wiped his hand on his jeans and started the search for his phone.

_"I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there..."_

The dim light wasn't useful in this endeavor and he slid his hand between the couch cushions, humming along while hunting for the ringing phone.

_"I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called-"_

"Hello?"

Ring tone silenced, Chad grinned when the familiar voice of Jared Padalecki came through the phone. "Hey, man."

"What's up, Paddy?" The timer on the DVD player blinked at him and he frowned. "It's 10pm; shouldn't you be out shooting still?"

"I do get breaks occasionally, y'know."

"Oh, really?" Chad teased. "Guess it was somebody else who spent the last eight months whining like a bitch about his shooting schedule..."

Jared gasped in fake-shock, "You been speaking to Jensen for all that time? Because obviously _I'd_ never complain about freezing my balls off during sixteen hour days in the middle of nowhere. I live for that shit."

Chad shuddered in sympathy. He'd spent all of twenty minutes on the _Supernatural_ set and it had been enough to make him consider taking up knitting just so he could make himself some ball-warmers. (Preferably of the striped variety since his testicles needed to be warm _and_ stylish.) "This is why my show is way better than yours. You spend all night loitering in graveyards like an emo freak, I spend all day watching girls run round in cheerleader uniforms and then get home by 8."

He could hear Jared's glower. "I hate you."

"You love me."

"No, I really don't. I don't even know why I bothered calling you - I'm going to hang up now and go loiter in graveyards some more."

"No, no, no," Chad protested. The porn was already on pause; he might as well carry on a conversation now. "Don't go all Sam Winchester on me. I'm not Dean, dude; I'd just tell you to fuck off."

Jared chuckled in disbelief. "You actually watch the show?"

"No shit, Sherlock. I only message you after every single damn episode."

"I do live for your commentary," Jared returned with mock sincerity before relaxing. "But you like it? I thought you just wanted to make fun of me every week."

"Oh, that too," Chad confirmed. "But it's not a bad show, man. Lots of hot chicks, lots of incest, lots of evil things. It's good." He propped his feet up on the couch, frowning absently at the porn-plumber's facial hair. "Anyway, I'm being a good friend. You watch my show, right?"

There was an incriminating pause before Jared's cautious answer of "Yes..."

Chad may occasionally have taken a while to grasp things but he was by no means stupid. "What the fuck was that pause for?"

Jared's voice was a little too high when he feigned ignorance. "Pause?"

"Yeah, motherfucker. Pause. The few seconds back there where you weren't speaking and trying to figure out how to lie to me instead." Jared's silence was like a big flashing arrow of guilt and Chad thumped the cushion in frustration. "Dude! You don't even watch my show?"

"I-"

"You're a horrible friend, you know that? You're like the Scrappy Doo of friendship - you come off like this cute little puppy but really you're fucking Satan in disguise."

He could almost hear Jared's apologetic smile over the phone line as he offered, "Funny story about that. Sam's actually-"

"Jared, I don't care if Sam Winchester spends his free time clubbing baby seals; you're not getting out of this. How come you don't watch my show?"

"When am I gonna have time?" Jared protested. "I'm practically nocturnal now, remember?"

Chad scowled, thinking that even badgers, vampires, and other nocturnal creatures should get a chance to see him looking hot as fuck in a basketball uniform each week. Taking Jared's point, he relented sullenly, "Fine."

Jared sounded like he'd been given a Get Out of Jail Free card. "Really?"

"Whatever." Looking again at the plumber's moustache rather than the housewife's expansive cleavage, he tapped out a mindless rhythm on the arm of the couch. "So how come you're calling me? Other than to let me know that you're a shitty friend."

Jared ignored his comment. "Well, you know how you told me to tell you when it was Sam's turn to make out with someone?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's Sam's turn to make out with someone."

Chad's enthusiasm shot up like a gerbil in a vacuum cleaner. "Is it Dean?!"

"No, you freak."

The gerbil of Chad's enthusiasm got wedged in the metaphorical vacuum cleaner. "Oh." Always optimistic, he tried again. "Is it a hot chick?"

"Yup."

His gerbil-enthusiasm rose again and he cackled in triumph. "Hell yeah! About damn time."

"There's no sex scene though," Jared offered as a disclaimer. "Don't head up here to crash any nude scenes or anything because you'll be shit out of luck."

Chad grumbled under his breath and hit the play button for the porno, figuring he may as well watch sex of some kind, even if it was of the clichéd, sleazy variety rather than the marginally less sleazy, real-life variety. "Bummer." The porno appeared to follow his instructions as the housewife's skirt was promptly ripped off and her ass slapped by the butch plumber. "Did you get any action off-screen or not?"

"Seeing as how she's a woman and I'm gay, no, we didn't have sex," Jared stated before loosening up a little. "Nah, Taylor's great - I don't think we made it through a scene without one of us crackin' up - but you know I'm not into that, man. Full-fledged gay guy here - I love the cock."

Glancing down at his half-open pants where his dick was still responding to the moans on screen, Chad answered in confusion, "Uh, glad to hear it. The Cock loves you too."

There was a quiet slapping sound which he guessed was the sound of Jared's face impacting with his palm. "You named your penis 'The Cock'?"

"Only on weekdays."

The inevitable question followed. "And on weekends?"

"'Superdick' on Saturdays, 'Apple Pie' on Sundays."

"Apple pie?! I- That-" He sighed. "Why is your dick called Apple Pie?"

Chad gave a dirty laugh. "Because everyone wants a piece of it."

"You're disgusting."

"That's not what your mom said last night," he teased and got the desired reaction.

"Hey, don't be talking shit about my momma when I'm too far away to slap you for it." Jared's voice shifted back to normal level as he asserted, "She wouldn't touch you anyway, dude. My mom's a classy woman."

"I'm classy."

"Chad, you wouldn't know classy if it sat on your face."

Again, porn mirrored real-life and Chad briefly lost track of the conversation when the plumber on screen lay back on the table and coaxed the now naked housewife into position over his head. Licking his lips in sympathy, he was only called back to reality by Jared's shouts down the phoneline, "Chad? Murray, you there? Chad?"

He sighed. "Yeah, yeah, keep your panties on; I'm here."

There was an awkward pause and Jared seemed to not want to know the answer when he asked, "Are you jerking off right now?"

Looking down, Chad was surprised to see that his hand had made its way to his cock. "Well, damn."

Jared groaned. "Oh, you are, aren't you?"

Raising his hand in the air, he answered honestly, "No."

"Did you just take your hand off your dick before you said that?"

Chad gaped but then, realizing Jared couldn't see his stunned expression, vocalized his amazement, "How do you do that?! Does being gay make you tuned in to people's dicks or something?"

"Yep. I'm a penis psychic," Jared mocked. "I've got a sixth sense for when people are jacking off."

Smirking, Chad corrected, "Dickth sense."

"You're hilarious."

"I know."

On screen, the overweight porno version of Mario was now putting it to Little Miss Housewife with sweaty eagerness and Chad's thoughts were drawn back to Jared's failed attempts to do the same to his co-star. Trying not to think too hard about why bad porn made his mind leap to Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles fucking like weasels, he inquired, "So if you're not hitting on this week's guest star, have you made any progress with the other woman in your life?"

Jared seemed genuinely confused. "Sadie? She's a dog, dude..."

It was a real burden to be so misunderstood. "Not your dog, dipshit. I'm talking about Jenny."

Jared took a preparatory breath. "I'm not even gonna go there. But no, Jen _sen_ and I are colleagues. That's all."

"So you haven't done _anything_ with him yet?"

"We play video games together," Jared replied defensively and Chad rolled his eyes.

"And that'd be great if you were both twelve year old boys instead of adult men who want to go fudgepacking together."

"I-" Jared swallowed hard before saying awkwardly, "I don't think Jensen's into that."

"Fudgepacking?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat, still sounding almost ashamed as he said, "I don't know... From what I've seen, I'm not sure if Jensen, uh, packs fudge."

The ridiculousness of this statement was enough to make Chad pause his porno. He needed to set Jared straight, right after he'd sniggered a little at the sight of Porno Mario's sex face captured beautifully by freeze-frame. (This was exactly why Chad never made sex tapes. He didn't have any qualms about people seeing him in action, but felt that his jizz-face would lose some of its beauty and majesty if preserved on celluloid.) Satisfied, he turned his attention back to Jared and asserted, "Trust me, Jensen packs fudge. Jensen looks like he could pack fudge for a goddamn living."

"I'm not sure," Jared angsted at the other end of the phone line. "I mean, I'm pretty touchy-feely by nature and I've been all over him but he's never given me any indication that he even..." (Chad imagined him gesticulating helplessly.) "...likes fudge."

Chad snorted. "You kidding me? The guy loves fudge like a fat kid loves cake. If I was a bettin' man, I'd put money on the fact that he wants to have his fudge packed by you just as much as you want to pack that fudge."

"You _are_ a betting man."

"Yeah, well, when someone opens a book on how much Jensen Ackles wants to go fudgepacking with Jared Padalecki, I'll be a rich man." Suddenly worried about the possibility of misinterpretation, he clarified, "You do know I'm not talking about the actual packing of fudge, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm talking about him getting his ass reamed-"

"Yeah, I got that, dude. Thank you for your tact and consideration."

He grinned. "No problemo. Anyway, as I was saying, Jensen Ackles is definitely a big fat homo."

Jared sounded offended. "Jensen's not fat. And I don't think he's gay either."

Chad despaired internally. If he was a Shakespearean hero, he'd be giving a long angsty soliloquy about how much of an oblivious tool Jared could be sometimes. "He's gay, Jared. Have you never Googled him? Those modeling photos do not depict a heterosexual man."

"He was young, he-"

"Was still incredibly gay. I mean, brick pants, dude. They're like normal pants, but with bricks."

"Brick pants are not an indicator of homosexuality." He winced a little. "Bad taste maybe, but not gayness."

"Okay, even if you look past the brick pants - which is a dumbass move by the way - how do you explain the billion pictures where he looks like the photographer caught him on a break from turning tricks?"

"He doesn't look _that_ much like a prostitute..."

"Bull. If Julia Roberts had taken some lessons from those pictures, maybe she wouldn't have been such a crappy hooker in _Pretty Woman_." He grinned, adjusting his position on the couch as he asked, "Hey, who do you think gives better head, Ackles or Roberts?"

"I'm not dignifying that with a response."

"Ackles all the way, huh?" He scratched his chin ruefully. "Yeah, I can see that. Okay, so in addition to wearing brick pants, looking like he has gay sex for money, and giving great head, the fact that he didn't thank me is one hundred percent solid proof that he's gay."

Apparently Jared's psychic abilities did not stretch beyond the genital region and he floundered. "Huh? What did he not thank you for?" Disappointment and genuine worry surfaced in his voice. "You didn't have sex with him, did you?"

"No, I didn't have sex with him. Jeez. Did you forget which one of us had the 'Fuck Eric Brady' missive or do I need to use my presidential authority to remind you?"

"No, I'm good." Jared sounded impatient as he asked again, "What did he need to thank you for?"

"Interrupting his sex scene."

"Why?"

So obvious to normal people, so confusing to Jared Padalecki. "Because of reshoots, moron. Any straight guy would be over the frickin' moon to get another take of rolling around in bed with a gorgeous girl but your boy looked like someone had just signed his death warrant."

Jared remained confused. "He looked happy enough when I saw him."

Chad wasn't sure whose head he most wanted to bang against the wall: Jared's, Jensen's, or his own. "The key part of that sentence would be 'when you saw him'. Of course he's going to be happy around you, Jay; he has a big gay yen for your big gay cock."

"I don't-"

"Look," he interrupted, patience rapidly approaching its (admittedly short) limits, "I'm trying to watch some half-decent porn here and as fun as your gay dilemmas are, watching Mario the Plumber put it to the horny housewife is far, far more appealing. Quit whining at me, man up, and ask him out. What's the worst that could happen?"

"The world could end," Jared answered miserably.

"Oh, cheer up, emo kid," Chad ordered, trying to bring some sense of finality to the conversation before Jared completed his transformation into an hormonal teenage girl. "Take a chance and ask him out. That way, if the world ends? You can die balls deep in Eric Brady."

He hung up before Jared could argue.

The peaceful silence was surprising, the groans from the television now the only noise in the room. Settling back down to watch Porno Mario get the job done, he frowned when he felt something niggling at the back of his mind. He ran through his usual checklist of the stove being left on, the keys being left in the ignition, or a sleeping stripper being left up in his bedroom, but came up blank. Before consigning it to the large mental list of things he'd forgotten, he raked quickly over his conversation with Jared until it finally dawned on him.

Groaning in annoyance at his own weakness, he picked up his phone and reluctantly hit the callback button, pursing his lips when he heard Jared's cocky response, "Did you have some other pearl of wisdom to impart, o Chad of all knowledge?"

"Shut up." He shifted in his seat, weighing up his decision to ask but eventually giving in to his curiosity. "What was that were you saying about Sam being evil?" Settling in for the long haul, he kicked back with the order, "Spoil me, bitch."

**+++**

**April 13th 2006, After 'Provenance'**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

You're an ass. I tune in thinking I'm getting to see this chick you made out with and then you spring some evil little psycho kid on me at the end. NOT COOL. :(((

**+++**

**May 4th 2006, After 'Devil's Trap'**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

THE FUCK, DUDE?! YOU CAN'T FUCKING END IT THERE!  
  
  


**May 27th 2006, Los Angeles**

"You know," Jared informed him with a drunken smile, "your hair is reeeeally fuzzy."

Thinking his vision was definitely fuzzier than his hair, Chad nevertheless refused to turn down a compliment and grinned back at him, confident that his smile was far less lop-sided than Jared's. "Thanks."  
  
He resisted the urge to purr in enjoyment as Jared's hands clamped themselves around his newly-shaved head, rubbing over his hair like his skull was a crystal ball containing the secrets of the universe (which, as far as Chad was concerned, it probably was). "Mmm... You've got good hands."

Jared blinked and stared at his palms as he rested his elbows on Chad's shoulders."Oh yeah. I really do." The dopey grin was back when he crossed his wrists over Chad's head and wiggled his fingers, giggling to himself. "You look like a wigwam."

Chad frowned. That didn't sound good. Looking up only to see a strange mesh of freakishly long fingers, he complained, "Quit teepeeing me. I don't wanna be a wigwam."

"But you make a good wigwam," Jared protested, having way too much fun with the 'w's in that sentence. "You're all wammy." Close enough that their noses were resting together, he said what Chad wanted to hear, "You're a very sexy wigwam." Slurry voice became Sean Connery voice. "Very very shexy."

"Is shexy good?"

"Shexy is awesome." Jared poked Chad's cheek with his nose. "One day, Chad Murray Michael, I wanna be as shexy as you."

"That, Jared Paladicky, is an excellent, excellent goal." He returned the nose-cheek-poke favor. "I'm proud of you."

Jared beamed but before they could continue their dialogue of platonic love, Jensen's equally slurred voice rose up behind them above the noise of the mostly full bar, "Are we interrupting something?"

Arms around each other's necks, Jared and Chad turned their heads to face the other two members of their crew for the evening, breaking apart with applause when they saw the drinks Jensen and Mike brought with them.

"Yes!" It took Chad a while to coordinate his hands but eventually he took the beer from Mike's hand and high-fived him in appreciation. "Very nice work, dude. You are a good good beer monkey." Scooping up a sweaty handful of peanuts, he decreed regally, "You may have some nuts."

He began to suspect that Mike Rosenbaum was an eensy teensy bit more sober than the rest of them when he guided his peanut-filled hand away with a laugh. "Your nuts are all yours, Murray. You might have Paddy here eating outta the palm of your hand but I'm gonna need a lot more alcohol before I start doing that."

Hearing his name, Jared inserted himself into the conversation and Chad jumped when the Forehead of Doom came looming into his peripheral vision. "Fuck! Don't scare me like that!" He slapped at him but the Forehead of Doom was apparently impervious to all weapons of God and man, and Jared was not fazed.

"Hey, I'm helping you out here." He fixed Rosenbaum with an intense stare. "You want Chad's nuts. Chad's nuts are salty and tasty and scrumilicious."

"Scrumilicious?" Jensen repeated from Jared's other side and Chad was thankful that they'd brought the new boy along when Jensen's words coaxed Jared back towards him, reducing Chad's forehead-phobia to more manageable levels as Jared turned his attention to casting full-beam Bambi eyes at Jensen instead of headbutting Chad to death.

"'S a word," Jared asserted. "'S like supercalifragalisticexpialidocious only less heart-warming because it doesn't come with chinmey sweeps."

Chad wasn't sure whether to be more impressed or appalled that Jared could pronounce the scary long word while thoroughly intoxicated but couldn't organize the letters in 'chimney' into the right order. Being a cheerful kind of drunk, he opted for the former and applauded wildly.

It only occurred to him later that he probably should've put down the peanuts before he started clapping.

Entranced by the smattering of peanuts on the wooden table top, he zoned out for a long moment as, like one of those psychological inkblots pictures he always thought looked like tits or dicks, the nuts arranged themselves into different shapes, moving from a representation of Orion's belt buckle to an intricate depiction of the DNA of an otter before finally settling into a flattering portrait of Chad himself.

"-like tea leaves."

Lost in his own eyes, Chad blinked back to the world around him to see the other three looking at him with smirks on their faces. "What? Are there tea leaves in your beer?" He squinted at Mike's drink. "Or in whatever that fruity shit is you're drinking?"

Mike sipped the red monstrosity without shame and then nibbled on a piece of orange. "Hey, I'm secure enough in my masculinity to order whatever drink I want."

Chad burped. "Aren't you gay?"

Shrugging, Mike licked messily at the sugar coating the rim of his glass and Chad had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from lunging madly for the shiny sugar too. "I can be both gay and masculine. I like to think it's part of my charm." He downed more red stuff. "I can even do Jewish sometimes."

Beside him, Jensen sniggered noisily into Jared's shoulder - and since when was Jensen half way to sitting on Jared's lap? Suspicious, Chad made a note to keep an eye on him for what was left of the night. Ackles was stealthy as a fox. Or a cat. Or some uber-stealthy hybrid of the two. Cupping his beer in defence, Chad narrowed his eyes at him and hissed, "Mutant..."

Jensen shook his head. "Nope. Just played one on TV."

TV led to T led to tea led to "Tea leaves! Ha! You were talking about tea leaves."

"We were wondering if you were trying to divine the future with peanuts," Mike explained. "Did you see anything?"

"Myself!" he proclaimed proudly. "It was cool. Was kinda like I could finally see the world through your eyes and I gotta tell you, I looked hot."

More sniggering from Jensen 'Snigger Factory' Ackles. (Yes, he knew that wasn't the snappiest of nicknames but it was appropriate, dammit.) Jared was more supportive and despite having a lap half-filled with bow-legged sniggerer, patted him on the fuzzy head. "You're very hot. Like pitta bread." He made some sort of weird claw-like hand motion and pinched Chad's arm. "You need to use pitta hands to touch you. 'Cause you're so hot. Like pitta bread."

Confused but accepting, Chad went with it. "I am hot. And looking at Peanut Me was like that story with the guy and the pond."

"Billy Goats Gruff?" Jensen suggested, puzzled, and Chad rolled his eyes.

"No, dumbass. That's got a bridge in it. No-one's going to build a bridge over a pond."

"What if it was a really big pond?" Jensen prompted, trying to use the one arm that wasn't around Padalecki's neck to demonstrate the size of a 'really big pond'. It looked a little like he was having a seizure and Chad pulled the subject back away from large ponds.

"No. No bridges. The guy wasn't on a bridge; he was looking in the water and saw himself and was like 'Damn, that's a fine piece of ass'. But then he tried to hit that because he's a player and players don't let shit like water bother them, but he couldn't fuck himself and he drowned."

"You're a truly gifted storyteller," Mike said with what Chad decided was awe and reverence.

"I'm just telling it like it happened." For the life of him, Chad couldn't remember when or where this story was supposed to have taken place but figured that it was probably a very original snuff film that he'd seen at some point. "Anyway, what if that had happened to me?"

"You were gonna drown in peanuts?"

He aimed a long-suffering sigh in Jensen's direction and wondered why Jared couldn't have fallen for a smart one for once. "No, I was going to make out with my peanut self until I drove my dick through the table and died a splintery death." The 'duh' at the end of the sentence was clearly implied but did nothing to make Jensen, Jared or Mike look any less perplexed.

Jared was the one to speak up with the borderline patronizing hint of "Have some more beer, dude. Beer is _awesome_."

He couldn't fault that logic and took a long swig of beer before surveying his company at the table.

Jensen and Jared had abandoned all pretences of subtlety about their gigantic mancrushes on each other and were now laughing together, Jensen's leg slung over Jared's and Jared's hand resting easily at the back of Jensen's neck. It would almost have been cute if they weren't precariously close to including him in their little snugglefest, but when he started to edge in the other direction, he found himself hemmed in by Mike who was stirring his terrifying beverage and making bedroom eyes at one of the young Latino waiters.

Trapped in the gay Bermuda Triangle (where people came back singing 'In the Navy' instead of getting lost at sea), Chad couldn't stop the rising panic and yelled on alcohol-aided reflex, "You'll never take me alive!"

The sound of blood rushing in his ears faded and he found himself faced by the silent trio at the table. Once again, Jared was the one to speak, his voice low and gentle as though talking to a small child who'd wet the bed. (Chad subtly checked his pants at this unpleasant thought and was relieved to be high and dry.) "Have you been having those dreams about the Geico lizard again?"

He shivered at the thought of lizard's cold, dead smile. "That thing's got the eyes of a killer, man. Eyes of a _killer_." Old nightmares hovered at the forefront of his mind but they were blasted away by the sudden recollection of what had sparked the initial fear. "No, I know what it is! It's gay people! They're everywhere!"

"The eleventh plague of Egypt," Mike contributed with a sage nod. "The locusts and the frogs made it on time but God's In-Tray got kind of overloaded after that. He did get to the gays eventually though."

Wondering if this was some special Jewish add-on to the Old Testament, Chad decided to tread carefully as he clarified, "I'm not saying gay people are like a plague or anything-"

"Neither am I," Mike corrected with a grin and Chad sagged a little in relief, not really wanting to offend any more social groups than absolutely necessary (although he maintained the scrapbookers had it coming.)

"Good. No plagues here. You are all plague free. 'M just saying that I got a gay guy to the left of me, two gay guys to the right of me and I'm stuck in the middle with nuts." He pouted. "I don't want nuts. I want women. And sex. Of the man-on-woman varia- varit- kind."

It was a tragic situation and Chad held back a whine of protest when his predicament was ignored by his bestest buddy in the whole wide world. The bestest buddy in the whole wide world who was now concerned with Jensen's modesty more than he was with Chad's pain. If he remembered this in the morning, he was so writing Jared a Post-It note to remind him of this devastating and shocking betrayal.

"Whoa, two gay guys on your right? _Two_?" Despite the fact that Eric Brady was on his fucking lap and looking pretty fucking happy to be there, Jared still took it upon himself to protest with exaggerated valor, "Chad, I don't know what you think is going on but-"

"Jared's not gay," Jensen chimed in with equal earnestness. Or earnestity. Or some other noun to convey him being laughably earnest in Jared's entirely fictionalized defense. "Yes, we maybe like hugging and petting and sitting on the same piece of furniture at the same time, but that does not mean that Jared is gay. He's just very furniture conscious. Because, y'know, of all the bunny rabbits and chinchillas and jackalopes that have fur. Which makes _fur_ niture. And that's wrong." Not entirely sure where his argument was going, Jensen summarized, "Jared is an anti-fur straight person. Who is manly. And straight. And grrr."

"And so is Jensen," Jared said with a nod. "Manly. Straight. Grrr."

Jensen turned to look at him, tilting his head as he contemplated, "I don't think I'm very grr." He shrugged, reaching for his beer. "'M not very straight either."

Chad's inner mental flail was reflected perfectly by Jared's outer physical flail when he (over)reacted to this casual disclosure by knocking Jensen's beer out of his hand and sending the liquid splashing across his shirt. Sadly it missed Jared's unfortunate fashion choice for the evening and the shirt with the flowery turned-up sleeves lived to fug another day.

Perturbed by this sudden shower, Jensen looked at Jared with a mournful pout. "Beer?"

"Jen, I don't-" He stopped himself, trying to get it clear. "You're gay?"

Jensen looked slightly scared. "Yeah?"

"That- You- How did I not know this?!"

Still not budging from his position across Jared's lap, Jensen did at least lean back to distance his lips from Jared's for a while. "I thought you did know. You practically wallpapered my trailer with pictures of me wearing those fucking awful brick pants-"

"Ha!" Both pairs of eyes settled on Chad and he grinned at Jared. "Told ya so."

"I just thought you'd figured it out," Jensen continued, surprisingly bashful now. "Jared, I- This isn't going to change anything, is it? I'm not going to start acting weird with you, it's just- I swear, I thought you knew..."

Seeing the fear of rejection shining clearly on Jensen's face, Chad felt a not insubstantial twinge of sympathy for the guy. Sure, he himself had never been turned down but he'd read about the feeling and knew Jensen didn't deserve that right when he'd accidentally stumbled out of a closet that he'd thought was already open. Before he could jump in and reassure Jensen that Jared had been pining after him just as much, Jared surprised everyone at the table by taking some initiative for once and blurting out, "I'm gay too."

For a guy who'd recently delivered his own shocking confession, Jensen looked remarkably scandalized by Jared's leap onto the gay bandwagon and slid fully off his lap before murmuring, stunned, "You're gay?"

No-one but Chad appreciated the irony when Jared responded nervously this time, "Yeah?"

Jensen's face had gone pale and Chad wasn't totally convinced that it was a positive sign (unless the blood was rushing someplace further south, in which case he didn't want to be in the immediate vicinity right at that moment). "The whole time we've been working together, all the touches and the hugs-"

"Can mean whatever you want them to mean," Jared offered, his panic now rising steadily alongside Jensen's. "I wasn't trying to grope you or molest you or anything-"

Jensen's assurance of "I didn't think you were" came spilling out at the same time as Jared's confession of "I like you."

Chad's eyes widened and next to him he heard Mike coughing up his creepy fruit thing as both Jared and Jensen spoke again at the same time.

"I'd never do anything like-"

"I like you too."

Chad was too drunk for this shit. "For fuck's sake, neither of you are gonna molest each other. Now can you stick to the interesting half of this conversation?"

Like moles exposed to the sunlight, Jared and Jensen blinked in his direction and he sat back, prompting smoothly, "Continue. I believe we were at 'I like you too'. Jayman, it would be your line."

For an actor, Jared failed spectacularly at speaking on cue. After alternating between gaping at Chad and making an apologetic face at Jensen and Mike - why did the apologetic face always come out when Chad was around? - Jared cleared his throat and sent a hopeful smile in Jensen's direction. "You wanna, uh, go get a fresh drink?"

"I could come wi-"

"In private," he stressed, steam-rolling over Chad's well-intentioned offer of help.

Jensen nodded and Chad could see the uncertain evaluating of the situation going on behind his gaze as he and Jared got to their feet. They started to move away before Chad could voice his threat that Jared better get a grade A in this evaluation or else, but he heard Jensen agree quietly as their arms brushed together, "A drink sounds good."

An hour and a half later when Mike was helping him remember that one foot needed to go in front of the other for it to be called walking, Chad discovered that 'go get a drink' was some kind of gay code.

Concentrating on maintaining his momentum - walking was _hard_ \- Chad chuckled giddily to himself at the sound of Mike's shoes scraping on the concrete of the car park and the way the light caught the top of the leather, making his feet look like little black robots that pootled forward in starts and stops. He was starting to add beeps and whirrs as sound effects when the two robots stopped suddenly at Mike's low whistle.

Raising his head, Chad complained, "How come we-" Following Mike's gaze, his mouth fell open in surprise. "Oh..."

Even with the blur of alcohol in his system, there was no mistaking the two men pressed up against the side of the building, lips locked together and their touches fired with the excitement of exploring new territory. Jensen's back was to the wall, his hands on Jared's hips while the larger man's body gave them as much privacy as possible in the darkness. From where they stood, Chad could just about make out the curve of Jared's back and the line of his shoulders but their obliviousness to their audience and the constant smack of lip on skin told him far more about the encounter than he could discern with just his eyes.

"Ahem."

For a moment, he wondered if he was him who'd spoken until he realized the noise came from his current support beam. Jared and Jensen looked up at Mike's interruption, semi-sincere guilt on their faces as they edged out into the parking lot together, wiping their mouths and exchanging discreet smiles.  
  
This was much to the amusement of Mike, who vibrated pleasantly with laughter and commented, "You two been getting to know each other better?"

Another look passed between the two of them and it was Jensen who answered, lips looking kissed out as he said, "Yep. Jay's full of new information."

Mike 'hmm'ed from somewhere near his right ear. "I bet he is."  
  
They were spared further inquisition and Chad groaned when he found himself hauled upright. He didn't have the energy to fight as Mike cajoled, "C'mon, you lightweight, let's get you back to Jared's couch."

Chad sighed happily. He loved Jared's couch. So much so that he took the current opportunity to give it the affectionate nickname of Coucherella. "M'kay."

Happy to see the pleased dimples of Jared's grin, Chad managed a weak smile himself, calling back as Mike carted him away, "Nice work, Paddyleck. Nice work."

**+++**

**May 28th 2006, Los Angeles**

Coucherella was a lying whore.

Specifically remembering the treacherous couch coaxing him onto it the previous night with whispered promises of how soft, squishy, and luxurious it was, he was annoyed to find that in reality Coucherella was none of the above. Yes, he might have collapsed onto it with gratitude when Jared and Jensen carried him through the door of Jared's house, and yes, he might have hugged it, drooled on it, and praised it as the greatest invention in the history of the universe in his overly-loving state of inebriation but he hadn't pegged Coucherella as one of those girls who believed everything that was said after a few beers. (And shots. And fruity red things that were actually very tasty.)

But apparently she _was_ one of those girls, or at the very least had haunted upholstery, since Chad had woken up every hour over the course of the night to find himself on the floor, staring at one of the legs of Jared's coffee table with his limbs in an uncomfortable tangle. Obviously Chad could sleep on a sofa without rolling himself onto the floor like an infant, so his prolonged and repeated contact with Jared's carpet was therefore Coucherella's malicious doing.

Head buried in one of Coucherella's cushions - was that like third base for furniture? - he grumbled sleepily, "Bitch."

Coucherella herself made no reply (because a talking couch was frankly an insane idea even when he was this hungover) but did send one of her canine minions to make her displeasure known.

There was a quiet bark of anticipatory glee but before Chad could mount any defenses, the large unforgiving weight of Harley landed squarely on his back, forcing the air out of his lungs and squashing him even further into the couch.

"Mmph! Geddoff!"

Unfortunately, in dog speak, 'Mmph! Geddoff!' translated as 'Please, Harley, cover me like a blanket and start nosing at my hair. That'd be awesome.' and being the helpful dog he was, Harley obliged, sprawling happily across him and positioning his head in a prime drooling position on Chad's neck.

"Urgh..." Reluctantly, his brain edged its way back to consciousness and he got closer to forming coherent sentences. "Off, Harls. Uncle Chad needs time alone with Aunt Couchy."

Harley barked sharply in his ear.

When his head stopped feeling like the 101 Dalmatians had trampled through it, Chad groaned some more. "C'mon, boy... Lemme sleep. Sleep good."

Another bark and Harley hunkered down further onto the couch, making Chad growl in annoyance as he realized what was going on here; Coucherella had already lined up her next occupant in the form of Jared's enormous dog.

Glowering internally amid the throb of his headache, he muttered bitterly, "Slut."

Upon being called a slut, Coucherella's vengeance was swift and brutal when she, with her magic sofa powers of thought control, made Harley stand up on Chad's back, nearly breaking all his ribs in the process.

"No..." He was aware he sounded pathetic and whiny but his head hurt, his internal organs were being compressed by a two-ton puppy, and the couch was most likely out to murder him. His life sucked. "Get the fuck off me..."

With a burst of energy that damn near killed him, Chad managed to push himself up on his elbows and to shift Harley off sideways. His joy at re-establishing the natural hierarchy of couch possession was short-lived, however, when he somehow found himself lying on his back on the carpet while Harley peered down from his perch on Chad's former bed.

Like Wile E. Coyote after he'd run off a cliff, Chad was hit with a horrible realization as to what would happen next.

Practically hearing Coucherella's cackle of "Fly, my pretty, fly, fly!", he could do nothing other than lay there as Harley leapt off the couch, soared through the air as if in slow-motion, and executed a perfect pro-wrestling move by landing hard on Chad's chest.

Between the pain in his chest and the burning need to breathe, Chad contemplated whether death by dog would be a suitably cool way to go out.

He eventually came to the conclusion that it would rank above dying while taking a crap (a la Elvis) but way, way below death by car accident (a la James Dean), overdose (a la River Phoenix), or getting hit by a wrecking ball (a la some random henchman in a pretty fucking sweet Steven Seagal movie he watched last weekend).

Staring up into Harley's deceptively cute face, Chad's attention was caught when the stairs creaked and a sleep-mussed Jensen stumbled downstairs.

From his spot on the carpet, he watched as Jensen blinked unhappily at the sunlight streaming into Jared's lounge before wandering blindly past Chad and into the kitchen.

He remained still at the sound of Jensen's yawn but tilted his head back to get a better view of the entrance to the kitchen when Jensen's footsteps on the tiled floor went silent. There was a long moment, which he guessed was Jensen's brain kicking into action and processing its earlier surroundings, and then Jensen backtracked out of the kitchen to confirm that Chad was actually lying on the carpet with a dog parked on his chest.

To make this confirmation easier, Chad waved at him. "Morning."

Jensen stared dumbly at him and Chad wondered if he'd sustained some kind of brain damage during his night of passion with Padalecki. Jared was accident-prone enough of the time without adding rough sex and flailing limbs to the equation.  
  
Thankfully Jensen disproved at least part of this theory when he replied in half-decent English, "Uh, morning." He cleared his throat and gestured in Harley's direction. "Are you two alright there, or..."

Chad shrugged as best he could, head still propped at a strange angle on the carpet. Jensen looked funny from upside down. "If you wanted to move the dog, that'd be good."

"Oh." From the look on Jensen's face, Chad might as well have told him to solve the meaning of life while doing the can-can. Finally registering the instructions, he acknowledged, "'Kay."

With annoying ease, Jensen shooed Harley off Chad's chest and patted the mutt absently on the head before forgetting about Chad and ambling back into the kitchen. Developing new respect for Jared's sexual prowess if he could fuck someone's brains out so effectively that they forgot about the existence of the most attractive man in the room, he began the long process of getting to his feet.

Five minutes, three banged knuckles, and one windmill impression later, he was upright. Frowning at his schizophrenic stomach which was flip-flopping back and forth between wanting to throw up everything he'd ever consumed and wanting to be stuffed full of PopTarts and peanut butter, he trudged into the kitchen and realized that Jensen's stomach was apparently having the same dilemma when he saw the other man lunge from the open refrigerator to the sink in one swoopy movement.

The billowing of Jared's oversized t-shirt as he did so made Jensen look a little like a vampire and once he was sure Jensen wasn't actually going to throw up, he told him this.

Fumbling for the 'on' switch of the coffee maker, Jensen scratched his nose. "How do I look like a vampire?"

"Because of the swoop, dude." He mimed swooping with his hands but then found his fingers got too invested in the 'suck and kill' part of the pretend vampirism. A concern arose and the words tumbled messily out of his mouth, "You didn't suck Paddy, did you?"

A coffee cup fell to the floor with a smash as Jensen jerked upright and smacked his head again the open cupboard door. "Ow, fuck-"

"That's gotta hurt like a bitch," Chad pointed out, aiming for empathetic but taking a detour to smug.

Rubbing his head, Jensen refused to meet his eyes and got down on the floor, squinting in an effort to focus on the shards of coffee cup that lay around him. Sitting on the work surface, Chad swung his feet in slow circles, refreshing his admiration for his toenails while saying to Jensen, "You know, I'd help you out but I don't really want to."

"Yeah, I got that," Jensen muttered, dumping the broken mug in the trash and using the handle of the fridge to pull himself back to his feet before attempting friendly conversation, "How come you're awake? I thought you'd be out till noon..."

Friendly conversation was Chad's least favorite part of the morning-after rituals and this dislike was not helped by the fact that he hadn't even had any sex with Jensen to mitigate the annoyance of his small-talk. He was an unbelievably incredible friend though and if it would help Jared stay in a bubble of Brady bliss, he'd do his best not to offend anyone before coffee. "Got woken up by the dog. The couch hates me."

Jensen smirked, filling up his new cup with coffee and perking up considerably as he inhaled the fumes. "You seemed to like the couch last night."

There was an odd note in his voice and Chad had a flash of panic. "I didn't try to hump the couch or anything, did I? Because after the beanbag chair, I promised Jayman that I wouldn't-"

"You humped a beanbag chair?" Jensen asked in disbelief, voice becoming less gravelly as he sipped more of the coffee. "That's, uh, different."

"You'd think it'd be pretty good, right?" he suggested, pleased to have someone to discuss his beanbag exploits with. "I'd had a few and I was already naked so I figured why not? I thought it'd be all squishy and fitted and shit, but it wasn't. Kinda disappointing really." Feeling like they'd established a bond, he asked cheerfully, "What's been your most disappointing fuck, Jenny?"

Like a lurking lurker who lurked, Jared suddenly emerged from the lounge and answered on Jensen's behalf, "Michael Weatherly."

Jensen laughed, still holding onto his coffee for dear life. Chad, on the other hand, was considering Jared's response. "Really? I always thought he'd be good in bed."

Far too perky for someone who'd drunk that much alcohol the night before, Jared wandered to the coffee machine, jabbing Chad in the shoulder as he went. "Dumbass. No way I'm going to have slept with Weatherly. Although I am disturbed that you've been thinking about how he is in bed..."

"Shut up, bitch. It's a valid concern."

"Oh yeah. Right after world peace and global warming."

Rolling his eyes, Chad turned his back on Jared and decided to talk to someone who wouldn't make fun of his priorities (and who might have had some first-hand sexual experience with the Weatherman.) "Jensen, did _you_ fuck Weatherly? Is he good? I bet he's good."

Jensen smiled, eyes now far less hazy as he shook his head. "Sorry, Murray. Guess you'll have to go experiment for yourself. From what I heard, he's up for most things so you're probably a shoo-in."

Chad sighed. "What's the point of having gay friends if they don't report back on how other guys are in bed?"

Gigantic cup of coffee in his gigantic hands, Jared moved to lean against the counter next to Jensen and teased, "Well, I can tell you that this guy is an excellent kisser."

"Dude, I could've told you that," Chad pointed out. "Look at his lips."

Jensen shifted uncomfortably and tried to cover his mouth with his coffee cup.

Seeing this, Jared reached over and slapped Chad around the back of the head, sending his headache up another three notches. "Don't be a dick."

Scowling, Chad slid off the counter, moving over to the fridge in search of food. "Your mom's a dick."

Accustomed to the retort, Jared ignored him and Chad busied himself in the construction of an epic multi-meat sandwich, thinking he was going to have to come up with some fresher material for his insults.  
  
Like ass-pickle. Ass-pickle could work.

"Hey."

He panicked whether he'd inadvertently said that out loud - an insult of the magnitude of ass-pickle should only be dropped at the proper occasion - but calmed when he realized Jared was talking to Jensen, voice low and a small smile on his face as they talked with as much privacy as they could get.

Since Jared's dog had practically fractured his ribs, Chad felt that he was perfectly entitled to listen in.

"Hey back at you," Jensen responded quietly. "You sleep okay?"

"Yeah." Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Jared sip more coffee. "I didn't snore or anything, did I?"

"No snoring. You did narrate a Mexican porno in your sleep but there were absolutely no snores." Jared's eyes widened and Jensen chuckled softly. "I'm kidding, Jared. No sleep-porning. I promise."

Jared smiled as well and a comfortable silence settled over the kitchen, broken only by the crinkle of plastic as Chad laid waste to Jared's lunchmeats. Eventually, Jared was the one to speak again, voice even lower as he whispered to Jensen, "Jen, with what happened last night... I know we were pretty drunk and I'm really hoping that you didn't wake up this morning and wonder what the hell you were doing in bed with me. But if you did, uh, that's cool, I guess - I'll back right off but-"

"I didn't wonder what I was doing in bed with you," Jensen cut in. "If anything, I was convinced I was still asleep and that you were just a figment of my imagination."

"Really?" Jared's expression shone with flattered shyness. "When did you figure out it was real?"

"When I left the bedroom and saw Chad," he answered honestly. "Not gonna lie, he's not someone who usually does guest spots in my sex dreams."

 _Everybody_ dreamed about The Chad so Chad knew Jensen was lying. However, he did have morals sometimes so didn't call him on it, not wanting to make it awkward for Jared by telling him that his long-term crush was probably fantasizing about him in private.

Watching subtly, he saw Jensen lean in closer and murmur, "We didn't sleep together last night, did we?"

From Jared's smile, Chad guessed the answer was 'Yes' and so was stunned when he teased happily, "Nope. You were a complete gentleman. Didn't take advantage of me in my drunken state at all."

Jensen looked to be a combination of relieved and disappointed. "We did nothing?"

"There was lots and lots of kissing?" Jared ventured, drinking more of his coffee and moving in closer to Jensen. "Like, epic amounts of kissing."

"So what you're telling me is that we were like fourteen year olds making out on their first date?" he asked dryly.

Jared put on a serious expression and placed his hand over his heart. "What can I say, I'm waiting till marriage."

Jensen didn't even try to hide his guffaw and Chad took that as his cue to join in the conversation again. "You're waiting to get gay-married before you have rough gay sex?"

"Yep. I'm the goddamn poster boy for chastity. Got myself a promise ring and everything." Beside him, Jensen laughed but Jared changed the subject. "More importantly, why are you assuming I have rough sex?" He looked offended. "For all you know, I could be a very gentle lover."

Chad wrinkled his nose. Somehow the thought of Jared having rough sex was less gross than the thought of Jared having slow, gentle sex. "No way you have gentle sex. Even if you were trying to, you'd end up squashing him or pulling his hair too hard or something."

Jared sent an embarrassed glance in Jensen's direction and stated in assurance, "I don't do that. Really."

Jensen shrugged. "Wouldn't be a problem for me." Chad frowned and Jensen confessed without shame, "I like it rough sometimes."

Chad whistled. "Whoa. Eric Brady's a dark horse!"

"You know Eric Brady's fictional, yeah?" Jensen inquired.

Jared shook his head, speaking to his co-star rather than Chad. "Don't bother. I've been through this already - he's still got issues with reality versus fiction. I think it's an actual mental problem."

"Screw you."

Before he could add 'ass-pickle' to the insult, Jared had started to ignore him again and was back making adoring eyes at Jensen. "So you think you'd be okay with what we talked about last night? That is, if you actually remember what we talked about last night?"

"Giving you and me a shot?" Jared nodded and Jensen feigned uncertainty. "I don't know. Would I have to marry you first?"

Jared pretended to think about it. "Hmm, I guess I could waive my 'wait until marriage' vows if it means I get to go out with you..."

"You're incredibly selfless."

"I know."

Heedless of Chad's presence, Jensen set down his coffee cup and glanced hopefully over at Jared. "Am I gonna need to get you drunk for you to kiss me again?"

"I think I can get around that too." Jared's smile was so big that Chad thought he was just going to clash teeth with Jensen instead of kissing him but he turned the grin down in time for Chad to watch in horrified fascination as their lips met. The contact was slow and smooth as they adjusted to the other's touch, but it picked up quickly when their lips parted, Jared's hand creasing the back of Jensen's borrowed shirt while he pulled him into a closer embrace.

It took the first glimpse of their tongues brushing to snap Chad out of it and he grimaced, realizing he was being subjected to gay foreplay against his will. "Dudes. At least give me some warning before you go tonsil-diving."

Not breaking contact with Jensen for a second, Jared flipped him off and Chad glared at him. "Fine. Ignore the guy who set you two up. Not like I need thanking or anything."

It was Jensen's turn to flip him off, confirming the fact that the two of them were destined to have the big gay eternal love.

This knowledge didn't mollify him as much as he'd have liked, but Chad consoled himself with his mighty meat sandwich. Picking up his plate, he sniffed experimentally at the armpit of his shirt and wandered out of the room to eat and to borrow some clothing that didn't smell like week-old Mexican food.

Hearing the wet smack of kisses behind him, he grimaced and took a bite of his sandwich, calling back through a mouthful of food, "Ass-pickles!"  
  
  


**September 18th 2006, Los Angeles**

Upon receiving his invitation to the newly-formed CW's launch party, Chad had been pretty sure the executives' conversation had gone something like this:

Exec #1: So, we're now the CW. Sweet.

Exec #2: We should totally have a party and show the world just how awesome we are now that we switched the 'W' to second place and changed the 'B' to a 'C'. This needs to be fuckin' commemorated.

Exec #1: Hell yeah. I'm down with the party plan.

Exec #3: But wait!

*dramatic pause*

Exec #3: We don't need a party, dudes. We just need The Chad. He can convince the world of our awesomeness just by winking in that devastatingly attractive manner of his.

Exec #1 and #2: You speak the truth, brother!

Exec #1: Hold on. Won't the other actors get annoyed if we only invite The Chad? I mean we all know Jared Padalecki can be a needy bitch when he's not busy fucking his co-star.

Exec #2: That is an excellent point, my friend. We should invite some other actresses so The Chad has hot girls to hit on later and some actors too so that Jared Padalecki does not get jealous and squash us into oblivion with his Gigantic Feet of Squashitude.

God: *in a boomy voice* And so it shall come to pass.

Currently loitering by the buffet table at the party in question, Chad figured his recreation of events was pretty damn accurate. To celebrate their shiny new network status, the CW party planners had invited all the stars of their shows to the event and only let them near the free bar and cocktail sausages after they'd been paraded up and down the red carpet like show ponies.

Chad was fairly certain Mike had whinnied at some point and Jared's hair was certainly mane-esque but personally, he had embraced the opportunity to get up close and personal with as many of his network colleagues as possible, since they couldn't tell him to fuck off while cameras were watching their every move. Using this tactic, he'd gotten friendly hugs from Kristin Kreuk and Erica Durance, a kiss on the cheek from Kristen Bell, and the death glare to end all death glares from the new girl, Danneel Harris, when his hand drifted down to her ass.

However, his red carpet indiscretions were nothing compared to the pride parade that was Jared and Jensen's entrance. They had thankfully decided against the matching pink shirts from the upfronts - which had been one stop away from a neon sign saying "We engage in mutually fulfilling gay sex; ask us how!" - but had nevertheless been all over each other the entire way down the carpet. It was like watching horny octopuses on their third date: there were appendages everywhere.

Working his way through the female half of the CW's workforce, Chad had watched as the real-life Winchesters meandered past the press, shoulders brushing together the whole time and wide, cheerful grins on their faces. Jared had looped his (broken) arm around Jensen's neck, smiling broadly for the cameras in what was supposed to be a show of happy CW solidarity but which actually came off as "Watch me proudly display my boyfriend so y'all can see how pretty he is".

Jensen's pleased expression had given off an answering "Why, yes, I am incredibly pretty, thank you for asking" vibe and at that point, Chad had felt nauseated and had gone back to his appreciation of Danneel's tits. They were _awesome_.

He'd chanced another look over five minutes later but when he saw Jared wrapping his leg around Jensen, he'd diverted his gaze again and decided to talk to the Sasquatch when they were inside about the rules and etiquette concerning publicly dry-humping one's co-star.

Therefore, after stocking up on pork skewers and after ensuring Jensen was tempted away from his boyfriend by the shiny lure of Mike Rosenbaum's head, Chad made his move.

This move consisted of smacking Jared round the head and asking, "What the fuck, dude?"

Happy, flushed, and a little bit sweaty, Jared turned to face him, rubbing his head absently. "'What the fuck' what?" He caught sight of Chad's food stash and brightened up. "Ooh, pork skewers..."

Before Chad could mount a defence of his snacks, Jared lunged in, mouth-first, and chomped some meat off Chad's stick.

Chad weighed up the merits of protesting but decided he did not want to dwell on that innuendo. "What the fuck were you doing out there on the red carpet, douchebag? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for getting up close and personal in front of the cameras but soft porn? People don't want to see that shit, dude."

He squinted and reconsidered. "Actually, your fans probably do. But still, normal people might see those pictures. Normal people who don't want to watch you making Jackles any more bow-legged than he already is. I mean, at the very least, you're gonna get complaints from disability rights groups."

Jared frowned. "I don't think being bow-legged counts as a disability."

Chad waved away that notion. "Oh please. It's not like he waddles round by choice."

"Waddles?" Jared looked outraged. "Jensen does not waddle!"

"He does kind of waddle..."

"No, he doesn't!"

"Plus with the whole lip thing..." Chad pushed his lips out and squatted, trying to get fully into the Eric Brady mindset. "He's practically a duck."

"Fuck you," Jared retorted, looking like he was going to punch him any minute, broken bones be damned. "I'm gonna go hang out with my non-duckish boyfriend instead."

"Whoa, hold up there, Speedy Gonzales," he protested, putting his hands to Jared's chest to stop him charging off for more public displays of ducky affection with his co-star. "You need to stop wrapping yourself around your boy, okay? You are not a five year old girl and although Eric Brady is undoubtedly downy and comforting, he is not your fucking safety blanket."

Jared's hair fell in his eyes as he pouted, making him actually look quite like a five year old girl. "I'm not doing it on purpose. You know me, man; I'm like that with everyone. Hell, I'm like that with you right now."

Chad looked down to see that yes, one of Jared's arms was now slung around his shoulders. Dammit, the man was like a personal-space-invading ninja.

"Okay, but you were even more like that with him," he argued. "One arm? Yeah, fine, it's an easy pose for pictures. Two arms? It's kind of a stretch when you broke yourself like a dumbass but okay, it's a genuine hug. But two arms and one leg? Too fucking far, dude."

The weight of Jared's cast lifted from his shoulder and Chad was faced with a mountain of sad Jared. Feeling like he'd just shot Lassie with a tranq gun and sold him off to the local Korean restaurant, he made an attempt at an apology, "Sorry, dude. Just trying to stop you outing yourself to the world before you're ready." A thought occurred. It was an exciting experience. "Oh, my bad, were you _trying_ to out yourselves? 'Cause the loving gazes really did help with that."

"No, we weren't outing ourselves," Jared corrected with an eyeroll. "Unlike some people, I don't announce my relationships by groping people in front of photographers."

That technique had always served Chad well so he kept quiet. "Fine, but if you're not announcing to the world that you're fucking Jenny, quit using the red carpet for foreplay." Jared nodded but still looked sad. Chad sighed and tried to think back to the last chick-flick he'd seen (by accident. Obviously.) "Um, I'm glad you guys are happy together, man?" With more confidence, "I'm pleased for you. Really."

As if he needed any more proof that Padalecki was secretly a woman, he got it when Jared looked up and beamed. "Really?"

"Yeah." He gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. "I mean, I'm not gonna start dancing round with a sparkly top hat and those weird clacky tap shoes because Jared Padalecki's finally getting his rocks off on a regular basis but I'm still glad your balls aren't gonna be gettin' any bluer."

If Chad had hair, Jared would've ruffled it. As it was, he just ended up rubbing his head in what turned out to be a fairly pleasurable manner. "Thanks, Murray." His arm settled back around his shoulders like a friendly snake and Jared's brows furrowed in thought. "Speaking of balls..."

That sentence was never going to end well. Chad searched desperately for Jensen as it was now definitely time to tag out of the Padalecki body hug but unfortunately he was across the room, deep in conversation with Danneel (which sucked because Chad would kill to be deep in _anything_ with Danneel.)

"Do you shave?"

Brought back to the conversation at hand, he blinked in confusion. "I know I look bearded and handsome sometimes, Paddy, but yes, I shave. Most men do at some point in their lives."

"No, no, I know that," Jared said easily. "I meant your balls. Do you shave your balls?"

Chad stared at him. "We are not having this conversation. There is no way in this universe I would ever be involved in a conversation about you shaving your... well, any part of your genital region. This is not real."

"I was just wondering because Jensen-"

"No," he cut in firmly. "No to whatever you're going to say. No, no, no. Anything you're going to tell me about Jensen Ackles' balls is fucking guaranteed to be too much information, so no. No more conversation for you."

Throwing innuendo-related caution to the wind, he grabbed another pork skewer off the table and stuffed it into Jared's open mouth.

"Mmph!"

Managing to halt the conversation about genitalia while simultaneously getting the amusement of Jared with a mouthful of meat, Chad smirked at his skill in killing two birds with one skewer. Letting Jared chew noisily in his ear, he scanned the room for Jensen again and his smile suddenly felt fake when he saw Jensen still standing near Danneel but looking towards him and Jared. If Chad hadn't known better, he could've sworn Jensen looked worried.

Come to think about it, Chad didn't know better. Jensen did look worried.

Strangely uncomfortable, he shifted position in the one-armed hug he was still receiving and looked between Jensen and the cuddly yeti. There was some kind of trouble in their sparkly gay paradise.

**+++**

**October 12th 2006, After 'Bloodlust'**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

You look like a chipmunk when you get tied up. Tell your boy that if he ever uses gags in the bedroom, it's fucking bestiality.

**+++**

**October 26th 2006, After 'Simon Said'**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

You know that epic bong that was in psychic dude's van? Is that easily stealable from the prop department? Because I think I need one in my life right now.

** +++ **

** December 16th 2006, Wilmington, North Carolina **

_ "Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock..." _

Delighted by the festive music, Ozzie bounced joyfully in front of the television, sandy ears and tail flopping about as he tried to copy the dance that was happening on screen.

_ "Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time..." _

Chad sighed. "C'mon, little dude. Down in front."

As much as Chad liked seeing his dog happy, he kind of wished that Ozzie would follow the lead of his other canine companions and make himself scarce so that Chad could fully appreciate the cinematic masterpiece that was Mean Girls. Lindsay Lohan looked freakin' _hot_ in a Santa outfit.

_ "Dancing and prancing in jingle bell square..." _

"Oz! Down!" Ozzie stopped leaping up and down at his shout and turned to look at him, cocking his furry little head in confusion. "Hate to break it to you, short-stack, but you are not a hot chick and need to get outta my way."

Neglecting the moving pictures on the television, Ozzie bounded across to the couch and sprang up onto the cushions next to Chad to receive a pat as a reward. "Good boy." Settling down next to his dog, Chad figured he'd educate him on the ways of the world. He may have only had one testicle but Chad was going to make sure he knew how to use it. "Now, you see those girls right there?"

Ozzie woofed.

"I know they might not seem like it to you, but when they're wearing Santa costumes and singing and dancing and stuff? They're smoking hot."

Ozzie whined.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you'd rather be humping the couch. But see, that's why we work out so well; you guys get the furniture, I get the girls." Ozzie yapped proudly and paraded in a little circle on Chad's couch. "Damn straight. Gimme five."

He held up his hand.  
  
Ozzie nudged it with his head then licked Chad's arm happily. 

"See, I knew you'd get it." He scratched behind the dog's ears and contemplated, "Now Padalecki, on the other hand, would be more focused on how impractical their shoes are rather than how short their skirts are." Ozzie growled. "I know, right? I mean, I'm happy that he's constantly filled with homo glee but it's kinda tragic that the only way he could get it up would be imagining Jenny as one of the chicks in the Santa skirts. Ew."

Despite the words that were coming out of his mouth, his dick stirred a little at the mental image.

Chad stared at the front of his pants in horror.

"Holy shit, it's contagious."

Jingle Bell Rock was drowned out by a blast of _"You and me, baby, ain't nothing but mammals so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel"_ from his cell.

Only knowing one person who'd be calling him at that time of evening, he clicked the TV off and spoke into the phone in outrage, "You fucking infected me with gay dick disease, asshole!"

There was silence at the other end of the phone and Chad cursed mentally when a voice that did not belong to Jared Padalecki replied uncertainly, "Um, I'm sorry?" The voice composed itself. "Are you- Uh, is that Chad Michael Murray?"

"I answer to 'the Chadmeister'," he informed him helpfully. "Who the fuck is this?"

The voice cleared its throat. Before Chad could wonder too much about whether voices had throats, it stammered, "Oh, sorry. It's Jensen. Jensen Ackles?"

"Jenny! I was just thinking about you!"

There was a confused pause. "Really?"

"What?" He coughed, glaring daggers at his treacherous cock. "No. No, I just-" He coughed again and made a sharp left turn away from a conversation about how the thought of a slutty, cross-dressing Jensen was enough to give him a semi. Some stones were best left unturned. "How's the show?"

"Good." Jensen audibly relaxed. "It's going well."

"'It's going well'? That's all you got? Dude, you suck at this whole spoiler thing."

"I do?" Jensen sounded oddly forlorn but was at least willing to learn. "What am I supposed to say?"

"You're supposed to say that Kripke's finally biting the elephant in the room and letting you two get it on."

He pictured tumbleweed rolling across the snowy Vancouver landscape in the time it took Jensen to reply. "Huh? Kripke's eating an elephant?"

Chad sighed. So pretty but so dense. "No, dumbass. Kripke is biting the bullet and dealing with the giant incestuous elephant in the room. He is biting the elephant." In case Jensen had missed the point, he made 'omnomnom' noises down the phone. Beside him, Ozzie barked in excitement, clearly angling for his very own snack-food elephant.

"Oh. Sorry, man; Kripke's not planning on biting that elephant any time soon."

Chad was genuinely saddened. "Damn." 

He got over it. "So if we're not getting any Sam-on-Dean action, what else have you guys been filming?"

Jensen made an indecisive noise. "I don't think I'm allowed to say. You know how it is with all the confidentiality clauses and stuff..."

Chad tried to sound sad. "But Jared _always_ tell me what's going on on your show."

Jensen's resistance wavered. "He does?"

"All the time, man." It was a lie - Jared had started calling him a fanboy and maliciously withholding spoilers - but he figured that since Jensen had been the one to call him, he was allowed to treat him like a supply teacher. "That's what friends do, right? Share?"

"I guess so..."

Chad never had the patience for fishing, but he imagined this was what a successful catch would feel like and started to reel in his Jensen-fish. "No worries, dude; I'm not going to force you into telling me stuff. Can you put Jared on?"

"Um, Jared's on set right now," Jensen admitted sheepishly. "That's actually why I called. I kinda needed to ask you something."

"No."

"No?"

"No, I will not have a threesome with you. Have some decency, Ackles. Hire a hooker."

"Uh, I-"

The rest of Chad's brain caught up to the part which assumed 'Do you want to have a threesome?' was a common question in the real world and he asked with a sigh, "That really wasn't your question, was it?"

"No."

"'Kay. My answer still stands though - I am not being the meat in a Padackles sandwich without you buying me dinner first."

"Um, good to know." There was a pause. "Wait, _'Padackles'_?"

"It's a combination of Padalecki and Ackles. I like to abbreviate my thoughts. For example, if I had a relationship with Jared, it would be named Chadalecki." He scrunched up his nose. "I don't know what I'd call it if I started fucking you. Chackles is an evil clown name and Jenray sounds like a mutant sea-creature. Hmm." He thought hard. "Hey, maybe Chadsen. Chadsen sounds cool. Like Stetson but with more Chad."

"If it helps, I'm never going to sleep with you."

"Psht. Never hurts to be prepared."

There was a stunned silence on the end of the line, probably from Jensen being bowled over by the magnificence of 'Chadsen'.

"Anyway, what were you going to ask me?"

"Oh yeah." Jensen coughed into the phone. It wasn't the nicest auditory experience. "You know how Christmas is coming up soon?"

Chad nodded. "I'd noticed."

"I was trying to work out what to get Jay as a gift because, y'know, we've been working together for a year and a half now..."

"And you're having sex," Chad added sympathetically.

He imagined Jensen blushing as he replied, "Yeah, that too. But I don't know what to get him so I figured you might have some ideas?"

He sounded so pitifully hopeful that Chad honestly wished he had the perfect idea of what gift Jared Padalecki would want to receive from his co-star/boyfriend. Unfortunately, he didn't and said as much, "Sorry, dude, no idea."

Jensen exhaled in defeat. "Nothing?"

"He likes dogs? And candy, and computer games, and shitty shitty movies." He smiled brightly. "And your ass."

"Yeah, I got that," Jensen replied, more amused than offended. "But I don't know what to buy him, y'know? He's probably gonna get me some amazing gift that I never even knew I wanted and I can't think of anything better than a pack of M&Ms and a video game to get him in return. I suck."

Chad had a brainwave. It tingled. "You could suck! Christmas blow-jobs are always a winner."

"I guess..." Jensen did not sound convinced. "There's always, like, sex toys and stuff if you think that'd work." There was a rustle, which Chad guessed was him getting out a pen and paper, and he then asked quietly, "What kind of stuff does he like?"

"What?"

"Stuff," Jensen prompted vaguely. "Like, is he into buttplugs or cock rings or, I don't know, _costumes_ or something?"

Against his will, Chad found himself imagining a semi-naked Jared high-kicking down some stairs wearing a tiara, stilettos and a corset and holding a gigantic buttplug like a twirling baton. Chad hated his brain sometimes.

"Chad? You there?"

He looked at his phone before realizing he should be speaking into it. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here."

"Good, I-"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know what kind of sex toys Sasquatch likes?!" The question exploded out of him and, like morning wood, Chad had trouble keeping the rest of his words down. "Because seriously, Ackles? I do not think about that shit. I am a heterosexual male. I discuss chicks, and strippers, and how huge my dick is, and porn of the straight or lesbian variety. I do not have conversations with Jared motherfucking Padalecki about what he enjoys shoving up his ass!"

He expected an apologetic or embarrassed response of 'Sorry, dude' or 'You're right, I will never even mention Paddy's ass in your vicinity ever again' and so was not prepared for Jensen's surprised question.

"You're straight?"

Chad took a deep breath, hoping the outraged anger would be expelled from his body.

It wasn't.

"What. the. fuck? Yes, I'm fucking straight! Have you not been paying attention to, oh, every fucking conversation I've ever had with you?!"

"Sorry." Jensen sounded suitably cowed. "I just figured you were over-compensating..."

"Over-com-" Chad took more deep breaths, coming disturbingly close to hyperventilation. Eyeing his owner suspiciously, Ozzie jumped off the couch and scampered away, leaving Chad to deal with the accusations alone. "I am not fucking over-compensating! I like women, okay? I will fly to fucking Vancouver and have obnoxiously heterosexual sex in front of you if you don't fucking believe me."

"No, no, I get it, man. I get it," Jensen reassured hastily. "I'm sorry. Really. It's just, from everything he says about you, I thought that you and Jay..."

Chad pictured Jared's ham-sized hands pawing his body. He pictured Jared's Forehead of Doom blocking his view as he lunged in for a sloppy kiss. He pictured Jared's ridiculous cock nudging at his ass, and then clenched his cheeks with a wince at the thought and vowed to never picture sex with Jared ever again.

"Okay, listen up, Eric Brady, because I'm only gonna say this once and then we are never ever going to speak of it again. I have never and will never have any kind of sex with Jared Tristan Padalecki."

Relief flooded Jensen's voice and his worried behavior at the launch party finally clicked into place in Chad's brain at the question, "You two were never together?"

"Never," he reiterated firmly. Yes, there were a couple of blurry nights in their shared apartment in Australia but Chad was ninety-four percent certain that he and Jared had never hooked up. Either way, he had no intention to stake a claim on the ginormatron now. "I have no interest in usurping your place as Paddy's fuck buddy. Sasquatch is all yours."

Jensen sounded like someone had just given him a puppy (which, to be fair, Chad sort of had.) "Thanks, dude. Honestly. Thank you."

Chad shrugged and decided to take thanks where he could get it. People were usually so unappreciative of his genius. "My pleasure!"

He could practically hear Jensen beaming over the phone but the other man went for casual when he asked, "So, no help with the Christmas gifts then?"

"Nope. You should probably steer clear of buying him dwarf porn but otherwise you're on your own. Just buy him a shitload of candy and let him eat it off you. He'll be happy for weeks."

Jensen chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

Stretching comfortably on the couch, Chad preened. "I am an incredibly giving person."

"Yes, you are." Jensen yawned into the phone. "Talking of giving, you getting him anything for Christmas this year?"

"Yup. My gift is already on its way up to the wilds of Canadia."

"What've you bought him?"

Chad grinned. " _New York Minute_ and a blow-up Olsen twin."

**+++**

**February 8th 2007, After 'Born under a Bad Sign'**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

Why the fuck are you hot when you're evil? Jackass. Quit fucking with my sexual orientation.

**+++**

**March 22nd 2007, After 'Heart'**

From: The Man, The Legend  
To: J-Pad

LOL. You cry like a bitch, dude.  
  


**April 6th 2007, Vancouver**

Stretched across Jared's three-seater couch, Chad didn't know if he'd ever be able to move again.

He'd flown up that morning to have a celebratory Easter/renewal dinner with the unfortunate schmucks who'd been shipped up to Canada to fight ghosts and had been pleasantly surprised when Jared and Jensen had revealed their hidden culinary talents. Instead of eating the takeout Thai food he'd been expecting, they'd all spent the last hour stuffing themselves to the brim with roast lamb and a ridiculous assortment of trimmings. Jared's brim was far higher than Chad's or Jensen's and while the two of them had collapsed on the couch after dinner to let their food digest, Jared had taken the dogs for a run, cleaned up the kitchen, and was probably now skipping along the Yellow Brick Road to make it a hat-trick of Insane Things to Do After Eating.

Groaning in a mixture of pain and contentment, he eyed his belly with curiosity and ran a hand over the food baby that had developed after the meal. He'd never seen himself without flat abs before and the sight was both intriguing and baffling.

"Hmm."

He poked the flesh of his stomach, giggling when his finger sank in a little way. He then realized he'd frickin' _giggled_ and was immediately suspicious that someone had spiked his wine. Either that, or he'd drunk too much of it. That was a plausible possibility too.

Patting out a rhythm on his stomach, he looked up at the sound of the door opening and saw Jared wander into the room before settling on the two-seater sofa next to Jensen and defying all laws of God and man by continuing to snack on stray mini chocolate eggs which Harley and Sadie had yet to lay claim to.

He was about to return to his stomach inspection when Jared teased, "Something you want to tell us, Murray?" Chad looked up and Jared nodded to his stomach. "Who's the lucky father?"

"Bitch, did you just imply that I let some guy fuck me?"

Jared looked at Jensen. "I honestly thought he'd be more pissed about me implying he was pregnant."

Jensen shrugged. "Anal sex always tops his list of priorities."

Struggling to follow, Chad focused on the one point he did understand and said, far more offended this time, "You implied I was pregnant? Fucker!"

"You do have that expectant glow about you," Jared taunted playfully and Chad took his hands off his belly to flip him off.

"Fuck you. It's not my fault you apparently store all your food in your goddamn ankles. I'm just a little fuller-figured right now."

"With child-bearing hips?"

"How's about you go find a dick and suck it, douchebag."

He regretted the words as soon as he saw the mischievous glint in Jared's eyes and grimaced when Jared squeezed Jensen's thigh purposefully with the comment, "I'm sure we could arrange something..."

"Oh, come on. At least keep it in your pants till I get out of the room," he protested. "I know I turn you guys on but I don't need to see the two of you going at it like Energizer bunnies in a Viagra factory every two minutes."

Jensen made a rabbit face then apologized insincerely, "Sorry."

Chad gave a melodramatic sigh. "Why did I even agree to come stay with you guys? I could've gone home this week, or hung round in Wilmington for the four days we got off; some of the girls are still down there waiting for the Easter bunny to cure their PMS."

"Oh yeah," Jensen chimed in as a memory came back to him. "Danneel said she couldn't be bothered to travel back this year."

"You and Danny getting pretty friendly now, huh?" Chad prompted, concealing his bitterness to perfection. "You talk to her more than you talk to me."

Jared snorted. "Chad, you know the only reason he talks to you at all is because you're friends with me." He looked at Jensen for confirmation. "That is right, isn't it? You and Chad didn't become BFF when I wasn't looking?"

"Nah," Jensen assured easily. "We're just sleeping together behind your back."

Chuckling, Jared plopped his feet in Jensen's lap and sprawled out on the couch. "'Kay. Long as you don't catch anything, that's cool."

"You two are freaks," Chad informed them, drawing the subject away from sex with Jensen to the lack of sex he was currently having with Danneel Harris. Hoping Jensen could shed some light on this matter, he inquired subtly, "So you and Danneel are good friends? 'Cause I've always found her a little cold, but maybe I've been doing something wrong..."

He trailed off, expecting Jensen to leap in with a helpful suggestion as to how he could win over Danneel and convince her that Chad's middle name should've been 'God's Gift to Mankind' instead of the lackluster 'Michael'.  
  
Sadly, Jensen did nothing of the sort, instead opting to laugh in his face and say, "You want me to tell you how to get her into bed?"

Damn Jared and his contagious dick psychicness.

Since his plan had already been foiled, Chad gave in and admitted, "Yup, that'd be awesome." He pushed himself up, petting his food baby as he went, and crossed his legs Indian-style. "Impart your chick-scoring wisdom, dude. I am all ears."

Jensen's lips curved up in a half-smile. "You know I've never slept with Danneel, right? Still gay here."

"Yeah but you hang with her all the time. You must've seen the kind of guy she would sleep with."

Jensen looked too innocent. "Nope. I've not seen her with any guys."

"What?! You're shitting me." Jensen didn't blink and Chad threw his hands up in frustration. "Are you fucking blind? She's amazingly hot. Like, fire of a thousand suns hot."

"She is gorgeous," he agreed but added, "If you're into that."

"It's times like these that I honestly question how you guys can be gay." This was a deep philosophical problem for Chad and he gave it the thought and consideration it deserved. "When there are girls as slammin' as Danny Harris in the world, how can you limit yourself to men?"

Toying absently with Jared's freakishly long toes, Jensen didn't seem overly bothered that he was condemning himself to a life without hot women. "I don't think she'd really be interested in me anyway. Yeah, she's a great girl and we get on real well, but even if I wasn't with Jay, I don't think we'd work as an actual couple."

"Hey!" Sensing the need for a pep-talk of awesomeness, he argued, "Don't sell yourself short, dude. You're plenty attractive. Okay, you're hilariously bow-legged, prettier than a lot of chicks, and got immortalized on film wearing brick pants, but if I was a girl and/or gay, I'd probably wanna fuck you."

"Uh, thank you?"

"You're _so_ welcome." He turned to Jared. "See, I can be nice sometimes."

"You're right," Jared conceded. "I hereby take back every comment I made about you being a dick since you have now said you'd fuck my boyfriend."

"Awesome." But there were hot women to be discussed so, "Jenny, get back on topic. You must know something about the kind of guy Danneel likes."

Jensen shook his head, a tiny smile still playing on his lips. "Nope. Not a clue. You know who you should ask though? Sophia."

Chad groaned. "Sophia? How am I supposed to ask Sophia about how to get Danneel into bed? She barely talks to me about the weather anymore, let alone sex."

"Hey, you asked, I'm answering. If you wanna know what Danneel likes, go ask Sophia. They get on well together." He grinned. "Really, really well." Chad still felt like he was missing something and Jensen continued, "Sophia knows _exactly_ what Danneel likes."

The realization was like a lesbian lightbulb clicking on in his head. "Oh my fucking God, no way! You're bullshitting me right now."

"Nope." Jensen's smile reminded him of the cat that got the cream (and that comparison _so_ didn't help with mental pictures of pussies and eating). "Danneel and Sophia are very, very close."

"Close like...?"

Jared put him out of his misery. "They're together, Chad. Girlfriends, special friends, lovers, whatever you want to call it."

"Wow."

He processed the fact that he'd been briefly married to someone who liked girls as well as guys.

"Holy shit."

He processed the fact that Danneel motherfucking Harris had been having hot lesbian sex with Sophia motherfucking Bush under his nose without his knowledge.

"Holy _shit_!" He looked between Jared and Jensen, feeling like a kicked puppy as he asked, "How did I not know this?"

"Because you were convinced lesbianism was a myth made up by women who couldn't get guys," Jared replied easily. "How's it feel to know there are girls who don't wanna get in your pants? Has your world been rocked?"

"Dude, my world is rocked because there have been lesbian cheerleaders on set for a year and I didn't know about it. Can your little homo brain understand how insanely hot that is? It's like a porno come to life! Only with chicks that are so much hotter than pornstars!"

Massaging Jared's feet, Jensen wondered aloud, "How come he was never this excited about the two of us being together?"

"Girl-on-girl involves boobs," Jared pointed out. "He's a boob man."

"Hell yeah I'm a boob man." Hope sparked in his eyes. "Hey, do you think they'd let me watch?"

Jared and Jensen answered in unison, "No."

"Damn."

Dejected, he slumped back on the couch with a pout. Neither Jensen or Jared said anything else and a peaceful silence descended over the lounge, Jensen's hands on Jared's feet the only movement in the room. Yawning loudly, Chad decided to use the brief time he got to spend with his friends in order to further his understanding of the complex dynamics of a well-functioning gay relationship.

"So..." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "...which one of you takes it up the ass?"

If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn Jensen was actually trying to cough up his lungs at the question. Jared's eyes bugged out of his head and, sitting up, he threw the TV remote squarely at him. "Dude! You don't ask shit like that!"

"What? I'm curious - I've never hooked up with a guy before. I'm just trying to figure out how stuff works."

"Google it!"

"I did!" Jared seemed lost for words and Chad explained, "Yeah, I Googled you guys. The internet thinks that Jensen takes it up the ass but since I actually know you, I thought I'd check."

"You thought you'd-" Jared took a deep breath and slapped between Jensen's shoulder blades until he stopped coughing and started breathing again. "Is your brain actually connected to your mouth or was that just a nasty rumor?"

"Hey, we talk about sex all the time," he complained, not seeing why Jared's panties were suddenly in a twist. "Why have you got a bug up your butt about it now?"

"Because," he answered simply.

"That's not an answer, dude. That's a random useless word. You might as well be saying 'kumquat' for all the good that does me."

"Because..." Jared tried again. "You wouldn't have wanted me to ask Sophia about your sex life when you were together, right?"

"I wouldn't have given a shit. I'm proud of my sex life, man." Jared looked skeptical and Chad offered, "You wanna know what I do? Fine with me. Last week I hooked up with a sweet little redhead at a bar, went back to my place, and fucked her senseless. She went down on me then she rode me, shoved a finger up my ass and made me come. Then I signed her boobs, gave her cab fare home and went to sleep." He held out his arms to accompany his conclusion. "See? I got no problem with full disclosure."

Jensen and Jared looked shell-shocked. Apparently hearing about the sex life of a hot-blooded hetero was a daunting experience. Of the two of them, Jensen regained his composure first and looked over at Jared with a mischievous smile. "What do you think, Jay? Maybe we should share with him. He did tell us all that about himself..."

Jared read something in Jensen's tone that Chad missed and said with a smirk, "That could work." He turned back to Chad. "You really wanna know what we do?"

"He tops most of the time," Jensen stated, a sly smile playing on his lips. "He's good at it too, all big hands and strong shoulders and clever tongue..."

Slightly creeped out by Jensen's impression of a sex-line worker, Chad became even more freaked when Jared got in on the act. "Hmm... Y'know, Jen's tongue isn't exactly bad either. Sometimes I just lay in bed, letting him lick and kiss every single inch of me." He parted his legs and Jensen's hand slipped down from his knee to stroke his inner thigh.

"Even at work, I can't stop kissing him. As soon as no-one's around I just want to strip him down, bend him over the nearest table, and make him come so hard he passes out." He leaned closer to Jensen, sliding his hand under his tee and pressing a kiss to his collarbone. "You should hear the mewls and whimpers I can drag out of him sometimes. I swear, I've never been so hard in my entire life."

Chad wrinkled his nose. "Okay, that's-"

"I don't know," Jensen wondered, addressing Chad. "Personally, I think he turns me on more. He comes off all friendly and happy most of the time but you should see him when he gets carried away." He whistled, low and long, and Chad saw Jared smile darkly against his neck. "You wouldn't know it's the same guy. He'll have us up against a wall, or on a table, or in the back of the car, and he'll push in so hard and rub in just the right place..." He sighed, a note of restrained longing in his voice before he spoke with a satisfied smile, "He's incredible."

"I don't-"

As soon as Jared began the next part of his narration with an impressed-sounding "And his ass...", Chad had reached his limits.

"Oh God, enough, dude! I didn't need to know-"

He was cut off by the burst of laughter from Jared and Jensen, and looked over to see them laughing loudly on the couch, still entangled but no longer stroking each other with the same overt sensuality. "You guys are fucking jackasses."

Still chuckling, Jared flashed him a shit-eating grin. "You were the one who wanted details."

"Yeah, an overview," Chad retorted. "I didn't need the fucking surround sound experience of you putting it to him. I mean, 'mewls and whimpers'? What is he, a frickin' cat? That's just not appropriate."

Jensen smirked. "Anything else we can do for you, Chad? 'Cause we've been together for almost a year now and that just described last week."

"I hate you both." He shuddered at the mental pictures. "I hate you so fucking much."

"Aww..."

Evidently finished mocking him, Jared rested his head on Jensen's shoulder, looking at him in a way that made Chad worry whether the mental pictures would soon become reality. Not wanting to have to pay for surgery to remove the sight of Jared and Jensen having sex from his brain (or if that wasn't possible, not wanting to take a fuckload of drugs to forget the experience), he rolled himself off the couch with the declaration, "I'm done. I'm a tolerant guy and I'm not about to stop you two having sex in your own house, but that doesn't mean I'm down with watching you bump uglies for the rest of the night."

He smiled, saluting lazily before signing off, "Night, guys."

"Night, Chad," Jensen returned with an equally relaxed smile, curling his legs up and leaning into Jared as they started to snuggle up on the couch.

"Sleep well, dude," Jared added. "Yell if you need anything."

"A hooker?" he ventured hopefully but grinned when Jared just rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'm good. I'll just go back to my room and, uh, read."

Jensen raised an eyebrow. "By 'read' you mean...?"

Jared once more displayed his utterly creepy dickth sense and predicted, "He's gonna go jerk off at the thought of Danneel and Sophia dressed as cheerleaders and having sex together."

There was no sense in denying it. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Jared eyed Jensen curiously. "Have you ever thought about roleplay?"

Chad winced, clapping his hands over his ears and speaking loudly as he backed up, "La la fucking la. I can't hear you. I cannot hear a single goddamn thing about any kinky roleplay shit you two get up to, especially if you're now thinking of putting him in a cheerleader uniform, Paddy."

He removed his hands in time to hear a faux-pouting Jared complain, "You spoil all my fun."

"I try." With a final grin, he reached the door out of the lounge and made another attempt at an exit. "Have a good one, guys."

Taking a last look back, Chad saw Jared and Jensen leaning in for a kiss, entirely absorbed in each other in the evening quiet that filled the lounge. Shaking his head, he smiled and ducked out, heading upstairs to his room.

Lying back on the bed (and enjoying the fact that it wasn't a slutty couch this time), it dawned on him that he couldn't remember seeing Jared as happy as he'd seen him tonight. Sure, there had been various times, usually involving lots of candy, when he'd been bouncing around like an overgrown, sugar-hyped toddler but even when he'd been overjoyed at getting the job on _Supernatural_ , Chad was pretty sure he'd never been this goddamn glowy before. Jensen lit him up like a Christmas tree and despite his desire not to hear the details of their intimate encounters, Chad liked this shiny version of Jared.

Realizing with some embarrassment that he was actually kind of choked up about this, he sighed, deciding to focus on thoughts of lesbian cheerleaders instead. Nonetheless, he allowed himself one more moment of pride and figured that this was what a mother-hen must experience; his little gay chicken had decked itself in feathers, flown the nest, and shacked up with another cock, and in all honesty, Chad couldn't be happier for them.

Now all he needed was to convince the _Supernatural_ writers to have Sam and Dean do the same.  



End file.
